


it's only forever, not long at all

by pastel_paperclips



Series: bnha fics [3]
Category: Labyrinth (1986), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Labyrinth Fusion, Attempt at Humor, Bakugou Katsuki Has A Crush, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Bakugou Katsuki is Bad at Feelings, Bakugou Katsuki-centric, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Crushes, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Dreams and Nightmares, Friendship, Gen, Kirishima Eijirou is a Good Friend, Labyrinth (1986) References, M/M, Not Beta Read, Oblivious Bakugou Katsuki, Quirk Accident (My Hero Academia), Quirk Shenanigans (My Hero Academia), Quirkless Bakugou Katsuki, Self-Discovery, Stream of Consciousness, Todoroki Shouto is Bad at Feelings, hero society's kinda wack, in the quirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:06:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28365873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastel_paperclips/pseuds/pastel_paperclips
Summary: “Are you still confident you can do it?”Bakugou glanced back at the maze, gaze sweeping over the endless twists and turns. “Yeah, sure.”“Then let's raise the stakes,” Todoroki smirked. “You will have thirteen hours to travel through the labyrinth and rescue Midorya Izuku.”He rolled his eyes and started to stamp down the path. “What the fuck ever.”OR: Bakugou gets hit by a quirk on his way back to the dorms and gets transported into the 1986 film Labyrinth.
Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki & Bakugou Mitsuki, Bakugou Katsuki & Class 1-A, Bakugou Katsuki & Kirishima Eijirou, Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki & Shinsou Hitoshi, Bakugou Katsuki & Todoroki Shouto, Bakugou Katsuki & Uraraka Ochako, Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou
Series: bnha fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138148
Comments: 4
Kudos: 48





	it's only forever, not long at all

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is my oc plot device, his quirk is transporting people into weird 80s movies
> 
> my absolute favourite thing is bakugou and deku reluctantly admitting how much they care about each other
> 
> title is from underground, the films opening song
> 
> for music - literally just [the film's soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/album/6cvdkUIC4IdBypl9L5Ae74) :)

“Stop standing around!” Mitsuki slapped the back of his neck, bustling past him with a gaudy feather boa draped over her dress. “No wonder you failed that test if this is all you do when we’re not here!”

Bakugou blinked, absent-mindedly rubbing the reddening mark. “What?”

She glared at him over her shoulder. “Are you fucking deaf now too?”

His face darkened. “Whatever, hag.”

He glanced into the kitchen, squinting at a small calendar. One date was circled in red ink, but he couldn’t quite make out which one it was.

“What the fuck,” he whispered, brain dragging behind his body. He swore he’d been at school less than a minute ago, no, he was walking back to the dorms with Shitty Hair when…

 _When what?_ he wondered. _A villain attack?_

Nothing seemed outwardly strange. It was just his living room: expensive sofas, velvet throw pillows and all. His gaze found the window - the sun had already gone down, and he could see the vague impressions of streetlights when it had definitely been light out before. It wasn’t even like his journey home was a blur, it was like it had never existed.

“Are you fucking ignoring me?” Mitsuki seethed. “And for fuck’s sake, be nice to your brother!”

Bakugou’s brain screeched to a halt. “What?”

He turned to her, but she had already disappeared. He ran a hand through his hair, blinking heavily. Slowly, he made his way upstairs, trailing a hand across the solid bannister. His senses all seemed to be working: his vision and hearing were clear, there was the lingering scent of magnolias in the air, the large vase in the lounge overpowering anything else, and he could taste the cloud of expensive perfume that floated over the staircase-

“Deku?”

The smaller boy jumped, scrambling back. “Kacchan! I was just going-”

“Why are you in my house?” Bakugou raised an eyebrow. 

Deku’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to stay in my room, I hadn't realised you were back,” he raised a trembling hand to a door handle.

“Your room?” Bakugou repeated, drawing out the words. “Are you fucking delusional?”

“Katsuki,” Masaru quietly scolded, gliding downstairs with a thick fur coat in his arms. He was in a tailored suit, neat and put together. Bakugou felt ridiculously childish next to him. “Be nice.”

“Where are you going?” he asked, and Masaru gave him a disappointed look.

“We were invited to the party at the Yaoyorozus’. We told you this last week.”

“No, you didn’t,” Bakugou muttered, turning the words over in his head. Something about them rang a faint bell. “Ponytail?”

Deku tilted his head curiously at him and Masaru sighed. “Maybe you should get some rest, Katsuki. I’m sure you can come with us next time.”

Bakugou scoffed. His parents had been telling him that since he was 8.

“Take care of each other,” his father called.

“Fucking _wait!”_ Bakugou ran down the stairs-

The front door clicked shut.

“Shit,” Bakugou turned back to Deku, who was _still_ staring at him, and snarled. “What the fuck is going on?”

Deku yelped, scurrying down the hallway. “I’m sorry!”

“Oi- Deku!” Bakugou sprinted after him. “Answer me! What’s happening?”

“You’re being an awful brother!” Deku cried, trying to slam the door but Bakugou caught it at the last second, wedging his foot in the gap.

“ _What?_ ”

Deku hiccupped back a sob, shoving against the wood desperately. “Leave me alone!”

“Not until you tell me what's going on! Where the fuck’s your mum?”

Deku crumpled into another pathetic sob, bawling into his hands. “Kacchan, you know what happened to her!”

“Jesus,” Bakugou growled. He’d thought Deku had grown out of his crybaby phase but apparently not. “Can you just-”

The door gave way and he stumbled into the room. Rain started to batter down the windows and Deku shivered, looking like he wanted to jump under the bed and - _fuck_ , it was _Deku’s_ bed. 

Bakugou stilled, staring at the All Might patterned blankets and school books neatly piled by the desk.

“What. The. Fuck.” 

Deku scrunched his eyes shut. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Bakugou asked. “Stop fucking apologizing!”

“You’re right, I’m-” he cut himself off, mumbling intently. Bakugou rolled his eyes.

 _A dream quirk?_ he wondered _Or an elaborate prank, like on one of those game shows… no, there’s no way it’d be legal to just knock someone out on the street. And Deku’s too anxious to ever agree to something like this…_

He let go of the door and felt something snag against the wood. He blinked down at his arms and felt his mouth fall open without his consent.

He was wearing some kind of loose silk sleeping shirt that looked like it had been made in the 1800s. One glance at Deku told him the twerp was wearing average All Might pyjamas (and if you asked Bakugou if it was weird that the idiot still had islands of merchandise of the man who was seriously considering adopting him, his answer would be _hell to the fucking yes_ ) so why was he stuck in this flouncy bullshit? 

He moved his arms and the white sleeves honest-to-God floated after him. At least his trousers were normal, if tighter than he was usually comfortable with (really, they weren't more than the leggings he sometimes wore to the gym) and offset by the thick hiking boots at the bottom of his legs.

And the _nerd_ was still staring at him. 

“What?” he ground out, flexing his fingers. “You wanna-”

Nothing.

Deku blinked at him. “Kacchan?”

He inched his head down to look at his hands, something cold trickling down his back. He opened his palm again and… _nothing_. “No,” he whispered, legs getting weaker. He felt himself sway slightly before forcefully righting himself. “Nothing fuckwit.”

No weaknesses, Deku couldn't know. _Shit_ , what was going on? 

“If, if you're sure,” the shorter boy nodded at him, still uneasy. From here, the shithead looked noticeably _off_ , like someone had drawn him from memory and gotten the proportions wrong. It took him a little too long to realise that his arms were fucking twigs; this wasn't the Deku of Class 1-A.

“Deku, I’m gonna ask you one more fucking time before I officially lose my _shit_. What. The. _Fuck_ is going on?”

“I…” Deku glanced at the window. The rain was getting stronger, hail clattering against the glass and there was a large owl perched on one of the branches outside. “I don’t know. You came home and your parents had to go to their party.”

“ _You_ don’t know?” Bakugou took a step forward, eyes narrowed. “What were you doing before I got home?”

“I,” Deku bit his lip. “Well, I was just, I’m sure you don’t care, but I was only-”

He blabbered on for a few more moments but Bakugou was already back to ignoring him. If Deku didn’t know what he was doing, then it was definitely some kind of dream quirk - a world created just to fuck with him. He’d be lying if he said that being the literal centre of a universe didn’t do anything for him.

“I was reading!”

Bakugou’s attention swerved back to him. “What?”

“The Labyrinth,” Deku mumbled, like he was ashamed of the small red book he was now somehow cradling. The owl outside let out a low hoot. “The one you called stupid.”

Bakugou hummed a vague agreement, snatching it. The book was wrapped in old leather and embellished with a golden design of a maze snaking around the cover. Bakugou followed it with his finger for a few moments before losing track of the turns and paths. He flipped it open, noting the underlined passages and Deku’s chicken scratch scrawl in the margins.

_“Oh, I wish I did know what to say to make the goblins take you away,” she sighed, bouncing the baby on her hip. Its cries echoed around her, louder and louder._

_“I wish… I wish…”_

_She sighed, placing him back in the cot. He was still wailing._

_“I wish the goblins would come and take you away,” she switched off the light. “Right now.”_

_The crying stopped._

Bakugou snapped the book shut, sneering at Deku. “Disgusting,” he told him, more because it looked like that was what Deku wanted him to say than anything else.

Deku lit up in a strange, fucked-up kind of way. “Why are you so mean?” he begged, inching closer to the window. Bakugou’s eyes darted to the locks and relaxed when they passed his inspection. Lightning flashed and the room flickered in and out of darkness. “You know, sometimes I just want you to leave me alone!”

“Leave yourself,” Bakugou shook his head, turning back to the door. He needed to find a way out.

“I wish…” Deku started and Bakugou frowned at him over his shoulder. 

There was the flicker of footsteps behind him and Bakugou whirled around.

“I wish…”

A quiet gasp from under the bed and Bakugou clenched his fists.

Then, he scoffed. “This is fucking ridiculous. See ya Deku!” he mockingly waved goodbye. “I wish the goblins would take _you_ away.”

He stalked out of the room and back downstairs, shaking his head. What a joke.

The house was still.

He threw himself onto the sofa, reaching for the remote.

His hand closed around cardboard. He looked down and the remote was crushed in his grip, nothing more than a painted prop. “What the fuck,” he whispered. “Ok, so I’m dreaming. I’ve just got to wake up.”

He pinched his arm, hard.

There was a lightning crash, and the house went dark.

Unease was starting to burrow inside of him, and he looked around the room. Everything was quiet, not even the hum of air conditioning or the pattering of rain.

“Deku?” he called, slowly walking upstairs. He pushed open the other boy’s door, squinting when he couldn't immediately see his silhouette. He flicked the switch, swearing when the room stayed dark - the storm must have cut the power. “Are you there?”

Silence. 

He crept closer into the room, shivering slightly. “Deku? Izuku?”

Nothing. The owl outside tilted its head at him.

“If this a prank of some kind and it isn’t revealed now, I will fucking murder everyone responsible,” he whispered. “Deku? Where are you hiding?”

The moon emerged and bathed the room in a silvery light. 

There was nothing and no one besides from him and the shelves of All Might merchandise.

Experimentally, Bakugou picked a figurine up and frowned when he didn’t recognise the design. It was like a painted toy soldier kids would play with in Victorian times but Bakugou hadn’t heard anything about vintage reimaginings - the only reason he recognised the figure at all was the colour scheme and the wide smile splashed across its wooden face.

“The book!” Bakugou suddenly realised, searching quickly through the toys.

He threw aside a doll trapped in a silver pavilion draped in a white suit with silver laurels, a weirdly craggy redhead plush, but the red story seemed to have disappeared with Deku.

The blanket on the bed’s edges fluttered and Bakugou smirked. “You’re not that slick, dipshit.”

He crouched down, peering into the blackness.

“Come on, idiot.”

Something peered back.

He swore, jolting his arm out and cursing when nothing happened.

There was nothing there, just a deep inky blackness. Bakugou swallowed.

“Fine, I _wish_ you’d get your ass back here.”

The window crashed open and Bakugou whirled to it, his stupidly large sleeves floating behind him.

“Oh, what the fuck?” he groaned.

Todoroki Shouto stood in front of the window, rain slicking down his sparkling hair and black feathers adorning his shoulders to a bloody ridiculous extent. Had Uraraka been there, she would have fainted.

Honestly, if there was one thing that could have convinced him that this was fake, it was this: Todoroki Shouto demonstrating bearable fashion sense (Bakugou had not and would not forget his travesty of a first hero outfit.). Bakugou’s gaze travelled downwards to the others’ tights and widened. 

_This must be an insecurity thing, there’s no fucking way his is actually that big._

“Nice cock,” he drawled.

Todoroki nodded at him. “Thank you.”

“Listen up Todoroki,” Bakugou pushed himself up. “Where’s Deku?”

“That’s curious,” Todoroki murmured. “How do you know my name?”

Bakugou watched him carefully, eyes narrowing. “So you don’t know mine.”

The taller boy’s eyes twinkled. “I know everything, Bakugou Katsuki. And you are not where you are supposed to be.”

Bakugou flipped him off. “No shit. If Deku was taken by the goblins and you show up, what does that make you? Some kind of goblin king?”

“In a manner,” he acknowledged. “Your wish may not be completed.”

“What?” Bakugou frowned, scanning the shelves for the small red book again. He didn’t like cheating, but a guidebook was sometimes necessary to avoid getting lost.

“Looking for this?” Todoroki asked, flicking his hand, and displaying the book with a flourish.

Bakugou lifted his chin. “No. Now bring him back.” 

“I cannot. I granted you one wish and I shall not rescind it due to your ingratitude.”

“Ingratitude?” Bakugou protested. “No one asked you to grant the wish in the first place!”

“You said it; if you did not wish it you should not have opened your mouth. If you truly wish to complete your second, it is your own responsibility and success is doubtful. You will have to work for this new wish to be fulfilled so that it may be considered. You are the last. You are inferior.”

Something told Bakugou he’d stopped talking about wishes. “Where is he?”

“Away,” Todoroki inclined his head. “As you wished.” As he spoke, he twisted his fingers and ice crystals coated his right hand in a cloud of shimmering dust. Bakugou gaped at him, his own palms painfully dry.

“How,” he breathed before recovering himself. “Give him back,” Bakugou growled. There was a giggle in his ear, and he jolted, driving his fist into empty air.

“Just forget him,” Todoroki urged, ice shaping into a small crystal ball. Bakugou stared into the glass, certain he could see green flecks in its depths and _wow, seeing someone trapped in a tiny ball hit a little too close to home._ “Stay here and leave him behind. He only makes you look worse. Wouldn’t it be better if he were simply… gone?”

“No,” Bakugou snarled, fists clenched so tightly he could feel his nails digging into his skin. “That’s not how shit works. I’ll beat him on my own terms - you work for things; they don’t just get handed to you. I don’t want your charity.”

Todoroki laughed and it sounded strangely cruel. “And how did you work for your quirk? Was it not given to you, like your money, like your looks?” _What a weird ego boost_ , Bakugou thought. “What do you own that’s truly yours? You’ve never worked for _anything_.”

“You're one to talk about inheriting quirks,” Bakugou muttered, his hands starting to shake with the need to just _explode_ something. “You have no idea the shit I’ve worked for.”

His sweat may not have been nitroglycerine anymore, but he’d be damned if couldn't still throw a hell of a punch.

“You will work for this,” Todoroki promised. “You will find him yourself.” He loomed over the blonde, suddenly inches taller until the black of his clothes and the white of his skin was all Bakugou could see. “And what a long way it is.”

He drew back and Bakugou’s breath caught.

He was standing on a hill looking out at a dense labyrinth, walls and turns as far as he could see with a castle in the distance. The sun was already nearly halfway up the sky. The air itself was seeped in sepia tones, the sky orange, and the plants brown.

“Fine,” he muttered, stomping off down the path. 

“No-” Todoroki rushed in front of him, throwing out an arm to stop him. “No, you can’t just-”

“Why not?” Bakugou challenged.

“Because that's not the way the story goes,” Todoroki asserted. “Now, how does the labyrinth look to you?”

Bakugou glanced back at it. It felt like some of the paths had changed, morphed, in the last few minutes. He swallowed. “Easy.”

“Oh?” Todoroki asked. “Then let’s add some stakes.”

He clicked his fingers and a clock appeared, thirteen hours marked and gleaming golden.

“If you do not cross the labyrinth to the goblin castle and rescue Midoriya Izuku in thirteen hours, he will remain here forever.”

“Thirteen hours?” Bakugou crossed his arms. “I could swim the Pacific in that time.”

Todoroki hummed, the sparkles from his hair bouncing off his shoulders and landing in the dirt like diamonds. They looked strangely pointy. Bakugou wondered if he could repurpose them as shuriken if push came to shove. “We’ll see.”

“Is that it?” he raised an eyebrow. “Are you done now?”

Todoroki just smirked. Bakugou didn’t think he could make another expression. “That’s the way the story goes.”

He rolled his eyes. “What the fuck ever.”

He started to stomp down the hillside, pausing only briefly to squint up at where Todoroki was still standing and flip him off. The next time he glanced back, he was gone.

This sucked, and Bakugou had an essay to write for Present Mic’s English class tomorrow when he got out of this quirk which added another layer of wholegrain shit to the whole ordeal.

A few minutes of fuming and kicking rocks down the path later, he reached a large set of double doors embedded into the labyrinth’s outer walls. Dried up fountains and crumbling statues littered the courtyard, but he ignored them, heading straight to the entrance.

There were intricate carvings etched onto the stone doors: two figures, one who was holding rays of light and another who was surrounded by lightning and wind. They were back-to-back and their eyes were closed, both peaceful. 

“Well that’s stupid,” Bakugou muttered, pushing against the rock and growling when it didn’t budge. “Fucking open!”

“You don’t look very intelligent!” a high-pitched voice by his ear snickered and Bakugou turned to glare at what looked like a tiny version of one of the Class 1-B asshats, hovering next to him thanks to the shimmering wings on his back.

“What’d you say to me, extra?” he challenged, bringing up a fist in threat. The thing squealed, darting away to hide behind another flying creature, this one with ginger hair and unnaturally large hands.

“I said you looked like an idiot!” the smaller blonde screeched in laughter that grated in Bakugou’s eardrums. 

“And you look like a toothbrush,” he muttered, examining the doors again. One was hot to the touch and the other was lit with the warmth of a heartbeat like the walls were alive. Shuddering, he pulled his hands back. 

“Pay attention to me!” the thing pouted, pulling at Bakugou’s ear. “I _said_ you-”

Bakugou batted him off his shoulder, ignoring its pathetic whine when it hit the ground.

“Careful!” a worryingly familiar voice called out. “You’ll hurt them!”

“Shitty Hair!” Bakugou turned to see the other boy crouching and picking up the thing. There was another perched on his shoulder, skin grey and laughing boisterously. “You-” he hesitated. “What kind of _you_ are you?”

“Hmm?” Kirishima looked up at him.

Bakugou’s eyes widened.

His skin was half completely hardened and half smooth, his right eye covered in shards and his hair hung down to hide it. His clothes were shabby and trailing strings from patches where hardened skin had emerged and torn the fabric. Kirishima noticed his gaze and quickly backed away, head craned so far down Bakugou could see the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“You’re acting like Deku,” Bakugou rolled his eyes and took a step closer without really thinking about it. Kirishima winced and stumbled back even further like Bakugou was going to attack him.

“Useless? You're right, I am, I-”

“No! You're not- that’s not-” Bakugou threw his hands up. “Ugh!”

Kirishima peeked up at him through his hair, still garishly red. 

_Really?_ something in the back of his mind said. _This one?_

“Open the labyrinth,” Bakugou demanded, squaring his jaw. “You must have some kind of role to play if you’re here.”

“But why?” he asked, voice slightly staticky from the shards decorating his throat. “Why can’t I simply be?”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, finding a foothold in one of the carvings. He swung up, reaching up a hand to pull himself over the wall.

The stones boiled and Bakugou’s hands jumped back on instinct.

“Shit!” he fell to the ground, glaring up at the carvings. Their serenity felt like mockery. “Fine. No cheating.”

“Are you alright?” Kirishima rushed over, always ready to play the hero. If Bakugou was anyone else, he would have tried to send him to rescue Deku while he put his feet up, but he was Bakugou fucking Katsuki and he would do this if it killed him.

“How do you get into this thing?” Bakugou asked, dusting off his legs.

“Oh! If that’s what you wanted, why didn’t you say so?” Kirishima smiled. “Here, I’ll show you the way.”

He strolled over to a small nook in the bricks and pulled out a large bronze key from his belt. As Bakugou watched, he inserted it into the stone.

“That’s the entrance?”

“I find that things that often seem obvious are the biggest lies. What’s the point of putting up a front if it isn’t large enough to conceal the faults? Lies rely on people seeing them after all.”

“So what, those doors’re just for show? They’re pointless?” Bakugou scoffed, glancing at the carvings.

“Yep!”

“Like your hair,” he muttered.

“Exactly!”

Bakugou blinked.

“Oh!” another of those 1-B creatures had reappeared, buzzing in Kirishima’s ear about something. Bakugou looked away, staring out at the blankness that existed away from the labyrinth, nothing but orange-brown until the horizon and the earth disappeared. He thought back to that cardboard remote and swallowed. If everything unimportant was a prop it was entirely possible that the world simply dropped off after a point, an abyss of nothingness. He shivered.

He turned back to Kirishima, watching him exchange a weird fist bump routine with the silver one from before the same way he and Pikachu communicated.

“Now Katsuki,” Kirishima clapped and tried to twist the key. It didn’t work and he sighed, pulling it out and inserting it into another cranny.

“Don’t call me that, dumbass,” Bakugou muttered, feeling his cheeks warm - it must be summer in this world. He was almost worried about the high heats affecting his quirk before remembering that that little issue didn’t exactly apply to him anymore. This _sucked_. “And how did you know my name?”

“You’re Bakugou Katsuki! Everyone knows that! Don’t they?” he replied, sounding thoughtful. “I knew you the moment I saw you!”

 _He hasn’t mentioned my stupid shirt, this is definitely a dream_ , Bakugou thought.

On cue, the redhead turned to him. “And nice shirt!”

Bakugou arched an eyebrow as the redhead went back to pushing the key in, trying to turn it, and taking it back out. _Definitely a dream._

He glanced up at the sky. The sun looked like it had barely moved an inch, but he really didn’t want to be risking anything. It wasn't that he was concerned about losing but it’d be nice to arrive 12 hours before he was expected and laugh in Todoroki’s face.

“Here!” Kirishima finally exclaimed, turning the key. 

There was an audible click and the stones swung open, invisible hinges creaking. A long corridor of bricked stone was revealed, stretching out in both directions further than Bakugou could really make out.

“This is the labyrinth?” he frowned. “Where does it start?”

“Here!” Kirishima assured him. “As soon as you step over the doorway.”

Bakugou peered into the gloom, noting the twigs and logs scattered over the ground. “There aren’t any turns.”

Kirishima laughed. “Of course there are!”

Bakugou eyed him. “If you're lying to me, I’ll fucking kill you.”

Kirishima swallowed. “I’m telling the truth! I promise.”

Bakugou glanced at him again before turning back to the long corridor. 

Determined, he took a step into the labyrinth and a rush of wind tangled through his hair, racing down the path to his left.

“Good luck!” Kirishima called, hovering by the entrance. His eyebrows were creased together. “Be careful.”

“I don’t need luck,” Bakugou muttered absent-mindedly, starting down the right path. No fucking wind was gonna tell him what to do.

There was a loud bang behind him, and he turned. The door was gone, leaving only a stretch of wall and a beaten path continuing further than he could make out.

“Just a maze,” Bakugou nodded to himself. “Easy.”

There was a weird plant knotted around the stone with grape-like dots that looked like eyes at the ends of its fronds. As Bakugou stared at it, it twitched like it was watching him back.

He shuddered and began to jog down the path.

He kept running and running until something in the brick wall made him slow down.

Carefully, he stepped back a few paces, examining a notch in the stone. Moving forward again, it disappeared. He slipped a hand over the rock and clicked his tongue when it fell through, revealing another passageway. 

“Fucking perspective,” he smirked. “Bitch.” 

He edged through and continued, relaxing slightly when he finally came to a corner.

He walked through long stone corridors for what felt like hours and Bakugou kicked at the twigs as he stalked through the maze.

True to Kirishima’s words, there were turns, they were just few and far between. It was strangely quiet but for the caw of a crow, far in the distance. He’d call it peaceful, but he was trapped inside a stupid dream quirk without his explosions trying to help Deku and Kirishima didn’t even fucking remember him. Honestly, it couldn't be worse.

He sucked in a determined breath and carried on. A quiet breeze twisted past him, knocking against some of the branches that were scattered over the tiles. The place had the strange atmosphere of something that had been constructed intricately for a purpose before being forgotten about and discarded over time. A movie set after the film had ended. He shivered. On top of all that, the whole environment was draped in that same sepia colour scheme bar him and his stupidly white shirt. Well. Given that he was the obvious protagonist, _something_ had to mark him as important. 

Absent-mindedly, he trailed a hand over the stone walls, wrinkling his nose when the rock crumbled at his touch, dusting his hands with a fine brown powder. There were three things he knew for certain.

  1. He had been trapped in a quirk, likely on his way home with Kirishima which implied that the idiot had been affected too.
  2. To get out of the quirk he probably had to work his way through the story Not-Todoroki mentioned.
  3. The story involved saving Deku.



He swore, kicking a fallen branch to the side. 

_So, something in my subconscious sees Todoroki as my enemy,_ he mused to himself. _Kirishima as a helper and Deku as… a_ brother _? Someone to be protected?_

“How about someone useless who needs rescuing,” he muttered to himself. “That sounds a helluva lot more likely.”

Bakugou started to chew on his lower lip. Every step he took echoed slightly and he chanced a look over his shoulder. It was just him. The paths were dragging on and there hadn’t been any corners in the past nineteen minutes (thanks to the steady rhythm of 1-Mississippi, 2-Mississippi in the back of his head). He glanced upwards and the sun looked frozen in place.

Todoroki had shown up at night but Bakugou had no way of knowing if his thirteen hours would run out at sunset or midnight or even if the sun _would_ set in this world. Shit, what if it was stationary, just another film background?

“Stop overthinking things,” he shook his head in an attempt to slow down the thoughts. “You sound like Deku.”

He looked forwards and his eyes lit up. The wall curved around into another passageway which meant that he _had_ to be making progress! Spurred on, he sped into a light jog. 

He rounded the corner and drew to an unsteady stop almost immediately, smile slipping.

A white mist was curled unnaturally over the walls, now covered in ivy, clinging to the leaves, and hiding the pathways. It was so thick it was like a wall had been erected in front of him.

Hesitantly, he picked up a twig and brushed it through the fog, posture loosening when nothing seemed to happen. As soon as he took a step forward into the mist though, he almost disappeared and he couldn't see further than ten centimetres in front of him. Glancing back, he pushed through, frustratingly aware that by retreating he'd only lose time. 

“Hello!” a voice chimed out from the mist and he jumped. “You must be Katsuki-chan!”

“Invisible Girl,” Bakugou breathed. “What the fuck do _you_ want?”

“Hmm,” she giggled and it felt like she was dancing around him. 

Really though, what on earth _was_ she doing here? Kirishima: yeah, absolutely he’d be a character; Deku: regrettable but understandable; Todoroki: ok, it had lost him a little, but he could see where the dream was coming from. But _Invisible Girl?_ The only reason he knew who she was was because she sat in front of him.

“I’m not sure! Maybe you could tell me?”

He ignored her, trying to find his way through the thick fog. His hand hit a dead end and he growled. “Figure it out yourself.”

“But I can’t,” she pouted. “You could help though!”

“No thanks,” he muttered. “You know a way outta this place?”

She sighed. “Selfish,” something poked his cheek and he batted her away, growling slightly. 

They finally reached a courtyard and Bakugou jogged to the far wall, feeling along it to find a door or exit. He trailed his hands further and further down until he landed on a tiny wooden door that was shorter than his knees. 

“What kinda Alice in Wonderland bullshit,” Bakugou grumbled, dropping his head into the wall. He crouched down properly to open it, but the door didn’t budge - there wasn’t a keyhole, just a normal (if old fashioned) doorknob that refused to shift. He forced himself to exhale. 

“Wonderland?” Hagakure asked, voice tilting upwards and twisting over him. “How wonderful!” she fell quiet for a few seconds. “But this world is rather wonderless in my opinion. So bland and grey. And full of secrets!” she giggled. “Look around and you can’t find your way for miles because it all seems exactly the same! They’re really ever so hidden!”

“Hidden?” Bakugou asked, glancing at the fog around him. 

She made a noise in the affirmative, humming some pop song.

“How do I find them?”

“You look,” she answered sweetly.

“I am fucking looking,” he glared at where the voice had come from, pushing himself up. “You seen Deku anywhere?”

“Who?” she asked, voice looping over itself.

Bakugou frowned. “Deku? Broccoli hair, probably crying, pain in the ass?”

She shook his shoulders and blew out a breath. He knocked her aside. “It's just you Katsuki-chan!”

She gasped and there was a far-off rustle in the ivy, rippling down the walls.

“He’s coming!”

“What?”

The air fell still.

“Oi!” Bakugou half-yelled, wary of this new ‘he’. Mentally, he tried to sort through candidates: Kaminari, Iida, Tokoyami, but none would cause that sudden discomfort. “Invisible Girl?”

There was only silence.

Slowly, heavy footsteps sounded through the maze and a flicker of heat lashed through the fog to him.

“Shit,” Bakugou muttered, scanning his surroundings. Aizawa, Sero, Shouji. “Ok, fuck. Fuck.”

Desperately, he tried to summon his quirk back to him, breaths getting quicker when nothing happened. Don’t get him wrong, he would always be a force to be reckoned with, but he could admit that his quirk brought his odds of winning up from certain to irrefutable.

The footsteps were getting closer.

Bakugou kicked at the tiny door frantically, backing away when nothing happened. Ojiro, Present Mic, Inasa.

There was a rush of heat behind him and he whirled to see ashes floating through the air and settling on his shoulder. The fog was starting to clear, and he could make out a faint figure across from him.

“Come out and face me,” he muttered, bringing his fists up. “I’ll beat you into a fucking sleep spindle.”

A hand clasped the back of his neck and he thrashed, spinning to an empty wall with nothing but the imprints of someone’s fingers against his skin. Satou, Mineta, _All Might_?

The fog thinned and the scarred asshole from the villain bar twirled a blue flame over his left hand. Oh.

“Heroes are all the same,” he drawled, voice low. “So arrogant.”

Bakugou didn’t respond, eyeing the bastard's quirk. He didn’t look like he worked out, but the fire would probably stop Bakugou getting close enough to knock him out. _Fuck_ , his palms were itching in frustration.

“Nothing to say, hero?” the villain mocked, ash coating his hand.

Bakugou gave him a venomous glare. “Go and shove a hot poker up your ass.”

The villain sighed, bringing a hand to his forehead. “I hate children.”

Blue fire erupted from his skin, scorching the walls around them, and making the fog hiss into steam.

For a small second, Bakugou hoped that Invisible Girl got out before he dragged his focus back to the main fucking problem at hand.

The blonde didn’t cower, watching the villain stay where he was, fire slowly spreading over the floor. 

“What do you want?”

The villain shrugged, bored. “Aren’t you UA types supposed to be smart?”

Bakugou gritted his teeth and didn’t respond. If he jumped over the walls, he could get away but he didn’t fancy the stones burning under his hands again. 

“Fine,” the villain rolled one shoulder back. “Let’s talk this way.”

Bakugou barely caught the twitch of his fingers before blue shot through the air.

He dove to the side, heat crashing into the space he’d left, and he could smell burning hair. Glancing at the ivy creeping up the walls, he wondered if using that to climb counted as ‘not touching the stone’ or whatever the stupid rules were.

He bit his lip, gaze travelling over the scorched floor before snagging on the small door.

Now that he was further away, it looked almost normal-sized. 

Carefully, he reached across to nudge it with his foot, closing his eyes when the door swung open to reveal what looked like more fucking pathways before shutting again. “For _fuck’s_ sake.”

Fire raced over to him and he rolled away, grabbing a small stick from the ground. If the villain got closer, he could drive it into his skull.

“Are you hiding?” the villain called, casually strolling closer. “How pathetic. I’ve no idea why Shigaraki wanted someone like _you_. Your temper’s a problem in itself and you need to learn to respect your elders.”

“What, want me to bow and call you senpai?” Bakugou spat, wiping some ash off his cheek. “Like fuck I’d roll over for everyone older than me.”

The villain sent another wave of fire towards him, laughing when he ducked away, stumbling into a wall. “You’ve got a lot of potential, kid. Sucks that you’re being forced to use it like this.”

Bakugou looked up at him. “I’m not being forced to do anything.”

The villain shrugged again. “The media breeds heroes. Let me guess, you were three, four when you first saw a hero mission streamed on TV? All Might? Hawks? Were the people there cheering? Did you want that? Did you walk past a poster or an advert in the street? You might not have been chained to heroism, but I’ll bet it was conditioned.”

Bakugou stamped his foot. “None of this makes any _sense_! If it's _my_ mind and _my_ dream shouldn’t you be applauding heroes? Monologuing? You’re just… here!”

“ _One_ of this makes any sense,” the villain corrected, pulling out a cigarette. “And assuming that it's your dream is awfully self-absorbed. Who’s to say this isn’t my dream?”

There was a faraway cry and Bakugou’s head whipped to the distant castle. “Deku… I don’t have time for this,” he realised.

“Are you going to run away?” the villain asked, and he sounded genuinely curious. 

“Fucking find out,” Bakugou challenged and the villain’s eyes widened. 

He dove for him but Bakugou was quicker.

His shoulder crashed into wood and the door gave way around him as he thudded onto a patch of dirt.

“I’m not running away,” Bakugou snarled, slamming the door shut behind him, and heaving his weight against the wood, just in case the asshole tried to open it. “It’s called a strategic retreat, bitch.”

A few tense minutes passed (because Bakugou had seen more than his fair share of horror movies and would not fall for the fake-out death trick), Bakugou’s harsh breathing echoing out in the new corridors. 

Slowly, he turned to examine his surroundings: plants were crawling over pillars that littered the space, and the floor tiles all had the same single leaf design, if positioned in different directions. It looked a little like a chessboard.

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes, striding over it to where the path tailed off, now made of thick hedges that he couldn't even begin to see through.

He entered the next section and gaped.

“Shit.”

The previous part had been nothing but straight paths, sure, but this was ridiculous. Almost every step, the path forked into no less than three sub-paths, each with walls tall enough that even if he jumped (and, yes, he did try, and, also yes, he knew it made him look fucking pathetic) he couldn't see over. 

The only constant seemed to be the massive castle still visible over the crest of the labyrinth but Bakugou swore it had gotten slightly closer. Letting out a rough exhale, he did what he did best and fucking persisted.

Right turn. Right. Right. Right. Right. Right. Right. Right. Right. Right. Right. Right. Right. Right. Right. Right. Right. 

He turned and glanced into the space now behind him only to see a tiny wooden door.

Promptly, he bent over and yelled into his knees. 

“Fine,” he straightened, a migraine scratching at his skull. _~~Is Deku really worth all of this?~~_ ~~A tiny voice in the back of his mind asked.~~ “I’ll just go through the centre.”

He started forward, ignoring all the turns. A few minutes later and he felt like the path was looping like a glitchy video game level - walking past the same hedges and options despite never shifting from the centre. He loosened his grip on the twig he’d picked up before and placed it in the path carefully. 

He walked forwards and twenty steps later he was back to staring down at the small piece of wood.

Experimentally, he dipped his foot onto the _left_ path.

“Dude!” a voice rang out. “Where are you going?”

And _there_ was the cutscene he needed. He hated this world with a passion typically reserved for teachers who gave homeworks that were due the next day and Deku.

Peeking out from the _right_ hedge was Tape Face, his eyebrows drawn together.

“It's this way!”

Bakugou sighed but reluctantly walked towards him. “What?”

Sero blinked at him. “The way to get to the castle and rescue your best friend!”

“Hey!” Kaminari exclaimed, rushing towards him from another hidden corner. “It's Katsuki!”

He stumbled over a tree root and fell into a hedge, a brown bottle loosely clasped in one hand. 

“You’re drunk,” Bakugou stated. Unbidden, his mind flashed up an image of the class lounging on the dorm floors, empty cups in their hands and a bottle whizzing around the circle. He hadn’t been invited - _no_ , he just hadn’t wanted to waste his time with stupid games, and understandably at that. “Of course you are.”

Sero winked at him, taking a swig from his own bottle as he walked him through the paths, weaving out and in. Bakugou hoped to God it didn’t loop again, an eternity with these two sounded worse than hell. 

“Where’s the pink one?”

“Pink.” Kaminari popped the ‘p’. “I like the colour pink.”

Actually, scratch _eternity_ , another few minutes with them sounded worse than hell.

“Pink like candy floss,” Sero mused. “Pink like dreams. What are your dreams like, Katsuki?”

Bakugou glanced between the two of them. “Usually better than this.”

Kaminari frowned. He hiccupped and a fizzle of electricity shot through him to where that same weird purple plant, the one with grapey dots on its fronds, was creeping up through the slabs. “Is this a dream?” 

Sero sighed. “Obviously. So!” he declared, gesturing to a set of doors that had suddenly appeared in a dead-end, both identical. Kaminari finally caught up to them, slumping face-first into the wall. Why was Kirishima friends with them again? “Which door are you going to take, Katsuki?”

“Can’t you tell me that?”

“Nope,” Sero shook his head. “That would be cheating.”

“But you told me to come here,” Bakugou pointed out. “Isn’t that cheating?”

“Nonsense,” Sero beamed. “There are some things you just can’t reach alone!”

Kaminari hiccuped again.

“So which door?”

“Why do I have to pick a door?” Bakugou crossed his arms.

“To go through it!” Kaminari chimed in.

“Why?”

“To continue through the labyrinth,” Sero smiled at him sagely. 

“Why?”

“To rescue” - another hiccup - “your best friend!” Kaminari grinned.

“He is _not_ my best friend,” Bakugou growled.

Kaminari blinked at him. “Then why are you doing all this?”

“Because it’ll get me out of this fucking quirk,” Bakugou waved a hand.

Kaminari hummed, nodding before turning to Sero. “I don’t get it.”

“That’s because you're an idiot,” Sero smiled at him. “He’s doing it because they’re secretly in love.”

“We are not!” Bakugou exploded. “Now tell me which fucking door!”

“We can’t,” Sero smiled his stupid plain smile. “You have to do it yourself.”

“Now, Katsuki,” Kaminari swung an arm over his shoulders. “I find that when you want to fuck someone, you shouldn’t yell at them.”

“I don’t want to fuck _you_!” Bakugou yelled pointedly. The doors were fucking identical, it didn’t _matter_. “You know what? I’ll go through this one.”

Bakugou shoved open the left door next to Kaminari.

He swallowed.

It opened straight into the ground, tunnelling down into darkness.

Behind him, Sero sighed.

“ _What_?” Bakugou turned, glaring at him.

“You shouldn’t have picked _that_ door,” the other boy murmured, shaking his head. “You should have let us tell you which door to pick.”

“You said you couldn’t tell me!” Bakugou fumed. 

“I’ll miss you Katsuki,” Kaminari sniffled into his bottle. “I hope you don’t die.”

“Die?” Bakugou whirled to him.

“Live!” Kaminari grasped his hands. There was snot dripping down his chin. “Live, laugh, love!”

“Well, it's too late now,” Sero shrugged. “You’ve picked that door.”

Bakugou snarled, cracking his knuckles. “So help me Tape Face, I’ll fucking pick the _other_ door then!”

“No!” Kaminari yelled with a surprising amount of conviction for someone who looked inches away from tripping into the weird rabbit hole himself. “That’s not how it goes!”

“I don’t care how it goes!” Bakugou roared. “There aren’t even any fucking rules!”

Sero and Kaminari looked at each other and burst out laughing.

Bakugou flushed crimson in shame, even though he was _goddamn right_. “What _now_?”

“Of course there are rules!” Sero wheezed. “Imagine, a world without rules! We’d all be dead!”

“Fine, then tell me what they are!”

They looked at each other again and laughed even louder. 

“He doesn't know the rules!” Kaminari pointed at him, bent double. “I bet he doesn’t even have a quirk!”

Bakugou inhaled. Exhaled. Lost his shit.

“CAN YOU STOP BEING IDIOTS FOR THREE FUCKING SECONDS?! I SWEAR TO EVERY FUCKING HIGHER POWER THERE IS THAT I WILL FUCKING MURDER YOU IN YOUR SLEEP IF YOU DON’T ANSWER ME! YOU’RE BOTH FULL OF SHIT!”

The courtyard was quiet, Kaminari taking another swig of his bottle. 

Sero sighed again. “You asked us to tell you what the rules were.”

“And?” Bakugou ground out, eyes barely more than slits.

“Have a quirk,” the taller boy smirked, leaning in. Bakugou stumbled back, catching himself on the doorway and glancing behind him at the hole. “That’s the rule.”

“You picked this door,” Kaminari smiled at him from behind Sero. 

“So you’ll go through this door,” Sero finished, shoving him, hard.

“Shit!” Bakugou fell backwards, the darkness enveloping him.

He scrabbled against the walls, but they didn’t give at all. The tunnel widened and narrowed but Bakugou couldn't get his footing quick enough to stop his fall. 

He tumbled into a heap, seeing stars for a second before jumping up.

He listed to the side, throwing out a hand and catching himself on a tall oak tree. He looked up and squinted into the branches, but it was just a normal tree bar the circular hole in its base. He shuddered at the realisation that he’d somehow fallen through _that_. 

“Have a quirk,” he muttered to himself. “Well that’s a stupid fucking rule then, isn't it?!” he yelled.

Turning around, he was in some sort of forest, willows draped over the ground and trailing in a wide lake opposite him. He glanced up at the sun and shivered. It looked a lot further along than it had before - he’d probably wasted at least two hours. The realisation that the sun _could_ in fact be used as a marker for time was only slightly overshadowed by literally every other fucking thing he could see.

Most pressing was the distinct lack of… labyrinth-ness around him. He swung around, nearly falling to his knees again when he finally saw the orange walls in the far distance. 

“Shit,” he scrunched his eyes shut. There was an awful warmth rising behind them and he ground his fists against his face to stop the tears from surfacing. This was _fine_ , everything was fine, he just needed to get back-

“ASSHOLE!” someone yelled and Bakugou winced, whirling to the sound. “WE TOLD YOU TO-”

“NO, YOU-”

“I DIDN’T-”

“DON’T BE STUPID!”

What sounded like a group of idiots continued to scream at each other beyond the willows, back and forth shrieking that just blended into one loud buzz after a while. 

A tall boy scurried past, hands clasped over his ears.

“Hey!” Bakugou called, jogging after him. “Look, do you know the way to the castle?”

“Oh, Katsuki,” the boy whispered like he was surprised he’d actually spoken to him and Bakugou’s mouth opened in recognition: it was the nature boy, the one with the hella powerful quirk, if only he used it. “Hello. You’re a little off track.”

“I’m aware,” he seethed. “Do you or do you not know the way?”

Kouda lowered his head, looking ashamed. “No.”

“OH, YOU LITTLE-”

“FUCK YOU-”

“FUCK YOU BOTH-”

“FUCK YOU ALL-”

“What the fuck is going on over there,” Bakugou jerked his thumb towards the noise and Kouda swallowed.

“They always fight,” he confessed. “There’s a bridge that crosses over their territories and they’ve been arguing over it forever.”

“Right,” Bakugou declared, turning back to where the walls were standing in the distance. “Good luck with that.”

He set off into a jog without looking back. He started to sprint past the ear-splitting noise and the willows to a-

“Oh, come on!” Bakugou threw his hands up. 

In front of him, stretched out to the walls on the horizon, was an impossibly large ocean.

“Have you given up yet?” Todoroki asked, suddenly next to him and still sparkling.

Bakugou glared. “Not a fucking chance. And why are you here?!”

“It's your dream,” he shrugged. “I don’t have anything better to do.”

“Where’s Deku?” Bakugou growled. He could probably swim his way to walls, he was great at everything.

“Where you wished for him to be. You, however, do not seem to be where you should.”

Bakugou blinked; that was what Kouda had said too. “Why’s that?”

Todoroki pulled out the small red book, flicking through the pages. “You appear to have failed sooner than expected. Well, it's nothing that crucial, I’m sure you can complete the necessary scenes later.”

“Stop fucking with me, Todoroki,” he warned, flexing his fingers. Todoroki looked down at his hands and smirked.

“What will you do? You’re _quirkless_.”

“I could punch your pretty little nose off, that’s what I could do,” Bakugou stormed over to him only for Todoroki to abruptly appear behind him instead.

“That is inadvisable,” he murmured. Bakugou’s eye twitched. “Remember…”

He waved a hand Bakugou followed his gesture to see a large clock hanging from a willow branch, a pendulum swinging back and forth. The hour hand was locked on the 6.

“That’s not true!” Bakugou exclaimed, gaping at the clock face.

“Why ever not?” Todoroki asked. “Isn’t it awfully arrogant to assume that time here would work the same way as you know?”

“You’re talking like that villain,” Bakugou ran a hand down his face, tamping down the urge to _scream_. “Why can’t you just give me a straight answer?!”

Todoroki blinked. “But I have. The answer is that there is no answer.”

“But-” 

“GET AWAY FROM ME!”

“YOU'RE THE ONE BY ME!”

“NO, I’M FUCKING NOT!”

“SHUT UP!” Bakugou hollered and the air quivered. “I’ll sort it myself!”

He stormed off to the ocean between him and the labyrinth. Now that he thought about it, he could _definitely_ swim it.

Todoroki sighed.

The temperature rose a hundred degrees. The ocean promptly evaporated.

Bakugou leant forward, peering into the empty basin. It was so deep he couldn't see the floor _but_ if he managed to scale down the sides, he could sprint across, climb back up and get back to the labyrinth in another hour.

Todoroki looked like he was going to cry. “That’s not an _option_.”

“Says who?” Bakugou pulled a face, rolling his stupidly large sleeves up his arms. He hadn’t climbed without ropes in a while but given that this was a quirk, he probably wouldn’t die. If it was purely in his mind, he might end up in a coma though. He hesitated, foot hovering over the abyss. 

“I would not recommend this course of action,” Todoroki said from somewhere behind him. Bakugou narrowed his eyes.

“Fine, he seethed, stamping off into the forest. “I’ll do your stupid fucking minigame. But because _I_ want to and not because you said so!”

“Ah, Katsuki!” Kouda said, fiddling with his fingers. “You’re back!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he groaned. “What do I need to do?”

“Well,” there was another yell and they both winced. “I suppose you need to fix that.”

“Why can’t you fix it yourself?” Bakugou sighed, walking through the forest, and brushing aside willow fronds.

“It makes me nervous to talk in front of large groups like that,” Kouda whispered, shoulders rising to try and hide his face.

“How many are there?” Bakugou glanced up at him.

Kouda closed his eyes in shame. “Three.” 

“Easy,” Bakugou declared. “I can out-yell three people in my sleep. …which this is.”

“Here,” they finally drew to a stop, ducking to hide behind a cluster of rocks and peer at a clearing, divided by a trickle of a river and four logs lying over it.

Bakugou thunked his head into the rock. “Jesus Christ.”

“WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?” Earphones stormed out of the willow fronds and, yeah, Bakugou guessed everyone was just gonna rock up to his dream. Maybe he should start checking them off, preparing welcome cards. He hadn’t seen his cousin in a while…

“I COULD ASK YOU THE SAME!” Ojiro shouted. “IN FACT, I WILL! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?”

“SOMEONE’S THERE!” Shouji popped up from behind a tree, staring at Bakugou’s cluster of rocks.

He sighed, jumping over the top, ignoring Kouda’s frantic squeak. “Damn straight. What’s the issue, dumbasses?”

“BAKUGOU KATSUKI!” Ojiro exclaimed. “WE WEREN’T EXPECTING YOU FOR ANOTHER TWO HOURS!”

Bakugou’s eyes flickered to the heavens, begging that this would end soon. Clearly God had forsaken him though, and Jirou stepped forward, looking him up and down.

“WHAT’S YOUR QUIRK?” she demanded, stabbing him in the chest with an earphone jack. Bakugou didn’t even care about the inconsistencies of a world that used 1800s sleeping shirts and yet still included enough modern technology to have headphones.

“Being able to deal with this shit?” he raised an eyebrow. 

“THIS CONFLICT IS NONE OF YOUR CONCERN,” Shouji declared. “IT IS CLEAR THAT I’VE ALREADY WON!”

“LIKE HELL!” Jirou snapped.

“Fuck this,” Bakugou sighed, turning back. He’d chance it with the coma.

“But I thought you would help!” Kouda frowned, rushing after him with his voice somehow growing even softer. “You’re supposed to!”

“Supposed to what? Sit there and listen to them screaming? Stop sending me on quests if they're impossible!” Bakugou groaned. He stopped on the edge of the hollow basin. His shoulders fell. Then, he exhaled. The castle was still there, he was still there, and he could fucking sort it. He was _Bakugou Katsuki_. Nothing was over yet.

Kouda gave him a weak smile. “Maybe you need to convince them to share the bridge?”

Bakugou hummed, thinking over the situation as he trudged back to the clearing, feeling like a yo-yo. 

“GET BACK ASSHOLES!” Shouji threatened, swinging a large stick towards Jirou and Ojiro in threat.

“It's escalated!” Kouda gasped, completely serious.

Bakugou turned and screamed into his fists. “Right,” he turned back to face them again. “Why don’t you just _share_ the bridge?” He was too nice, offering his advice like this.

“BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO!” Ojiro yelled.

“ME NEITHER BITCH!” Jirou snarled.

“STOP YELLING!”

“YOU FIRST!”

“BOTH OF YOU STOP YELLING AND JUST SPEAK _NORMALLY_ TO EACH OTHER! YOU AREN’T EVEN LISTENING!” he yelled.

They all ignored him, and he snarled, storming off. 

“Wait,” he breathed out, just about to exit the clearing. “That’s it!” he whirled back to them, eyes wide. “You just need to fucking listen to each other!”

“I DON’T WANT TO LISTEN TO THEM!” Jirou gestured to the two and Bakugou nodded earnestly.

“I get that, trust me. But I need to get out this quirk so you're just gonna have to suck it up.”

“BUT… HOW?” Shouji asked, turning to him.

“You’re asking me?” Bakugou’s eyes widened. “I mean yeah, I’m a fucking beacon of healthy communication. Um… just… what do you want?” he turned to Ojiro first.

“THE BRIDGE.”

“... right. And you?” he glanced at Shouji.

“THE…” he looked at Ojiro awkwardly. “BRIDGE.”

“And can’t you two share it? It's quite big.”

They huffed. “I guess,” Shouji muttered and Kouda gasped in joy.

“Jirou?” Bakugou asked.

“I could share it,” she scratched at her neck. “But they’d never want to share it with someone like me.”

Bakugou blinked.

“Because my quirk isn't that useful and I’m not physically strong.”

“Hey!” Ojiro took a step forward. “I didn’t realise that you thought that. I could help train you?”

“And your quirk’s super cool,” Bakugou interjected. “Just saying.”

“Wait,” Shouji said suddenly. “I’m sorry if I ever hurt your feelings when we were yelling at each other!”

“Same!” Jirou nodded frantically.

Bakugou glanced away awkwardly as the three of them jumped into a group hug. That was easy. His gaze found the labyrinth and his eyes widened.

The ocean was gone.

“Finally!” he lit up, sprinting to the orange walls. 

“Good luck!” Kouda called behind him and Bakugou shot him a grin over his shoulder. When he woke up, he’d give him some tips on improving his hand-to-hand - it was just painful watching someone with so much potential squander it. Thinking that, he remembered the villain and his talk of conditioned heroism. Bakugou swallowed. It didn’t matter how fake some heroes were, he’d be different.

He reached the stones easily, scanning along it for the fake entrance and the courtyard. Slowly, his smile started to slip.

“Where did the doors go?” Bakugou demanded. “The fairies?”

“Well, that’s on the other side of the labyrinth, of course,” Todoroki stated, appearing next to him.

“ _What_?” Bakugou whirled to him. 

“You fell under the castle and came out the opposite end.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he panted, slumping against the blank wall. “Do I have to walk all the way back around? …well?”

Todoroki was gone.

A rope dropped down and his head snapped up.

“Shitty Hair!”

“Heard you needed an entrance,” Kirishima grinned, leaning over the wall.

Bakugou rolled his eyes, grabbing the rope and pulling himself up, jumping neatly down to land in another stone corridor. “How did you know I was there?”

Kirishima hummed, shrugging. “I just knew. The same way I knew you were Bakugou Katsuki!”

“Huh,” Bakugou murmured. What a weird world this was. “Fuck, I’ve got so much left to go!” he gasped staring up at the sun, now firmly on its way to setting.

“Well, that’s easily fixed,” Kirishima said, brandishing the same key he’d used to open the labyrinth in the first place.

“You can take me to the castle!” Bakugou realised, seizing his hands. “That key can transport you anywhere in the labyrinth, right?”

“Not exactly,” Kirishima chewed on his lip. “The labyrinth is an entity in itself. Not even I can cheat it.” His shoulder slumped. “I’m sorry, I failed-”

“What, no!” Bakugou rushed to assure him. “You’re doing fine! You can’t help shitty rules.”

“Shitty rules?” Kirishima asked, looking up at him through his fringe. Bakugou smirked.

“Shittier than your hair.”

Kirishima let out a weak laugh, tugging a hand through the strands. 

Bakugou watched him for a few moments, gaze locked on his red eyes, large and glistening.

“You need to get through the labyrinth.”

“I do,” Bakugou straightened, shaking his head. “Any ideas?”

Kirishima inserted the key into the wall and beamed when it clicked on the first turn. “Technically since you’ve travelled through the previous sections before, I think we can just go straight to where you last were.”

“Like a savepoint,” Bakugou nodded to himself and Kirishima gave him a look.

“What’s a savepoint?”

Right, a world with headphone jacks but not video games. Sure. 

The stones opened onto a staircase heading down into the ground. Bakugou arched an eyebrow but Kirishima didn’t react, lighting a candle from his belt and leading the way into the darkness.

“We’ll just be going under the labyrinth, come on!”

Bakugou looked back down the long stone corridors, stretching out around the maze, and found himself nodding. “Alright then.”

The stairs were thin and rickety but before long they were walking through the shadows, only Kirishima’s small candle to light their way.

“So,” Bakugou started. “Is your quirk… reversible?”

Kirishima tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“Just,” Bakugou gestured to his face, steadily turning pink. “Is it always like that?”

Kirishima sighed, turning away. “Yes. Always.”

“Looks pretty badass,” Bakugou muttered. “Just so you know.”

Kirishima’s face broke into a small grin, happiness rippling over his face until his eyes were gleaming. “Thanks, Katsuki. Ah! This is the one!” he knocked on a flimsy ladder that led up to the ceiling.

“Right,” Bakugou grabbed a hold of a rung and yanked himself up, shoving the stone tile at the top away.

Sero and Kaminari were chatting casually by their doors.

“Hey, Katsuki!” Kaminari beamed, straightening.

“You-!” Bakugou yelled, jumping up.

“Me!” Kaminari agreed happily.

“You pushed me down a hole!” Bakugou seethed, marching forward. 

“Let’s all be friends!” Kirishima leapt in, holding both of his hands up. 

“Hey Kiri,” Sero greeted and the three of them giggled together before turning back to Bakugou. “Do you have a quirk yet?”

“Watch it,” Bakugou warned in a rare moment of kindness. It wasn’t that often he gave people a chance to back off before they got hit with a roundhouse kick to the groin.

“We just need to pass,” Kirishima nudged him. “Can you remember the answer?”

“Alright Dora the Explorer,” Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Kaminari’s door opened onto the hole so Sero’s the right one.”

They were all staring at him.

“…right?” 

“Well,” Sero scratched his chin. “That would make sense.”

“But this world _doesn’t_ make sense,” Bakugou realised. “So, the answer would be Kaminari.”

There was another chorus of murmuring and shrugs.

“No, that’s right!” Bakugou started to grin. “I know it is!”

He took a step forward and then stopped.

“What happens if I get it wrong again?”

“You’ll probably die,” Kaminari told him.

Bakugou stuck his tongue in his cheek. “Whatever.”

He walked forward, glancing behind him at Kirishima. He shook his head and continued, pushing the door open.

It creaked onto a new corridor.

“Knew it,” he smirked. “This is-”

The floor collapsed under him.

He snapped his arms out, catching himself on the remaining tiles.

“Good reflexes,” Sero whistled, the three of them blinking down at him.

Bakugou glowered up at him. “Don’t fucking start.”

He swung his legs back over the floor and opened Sero’s door. It revealed the same corridor that Kaminari’s had. Bakugou lent back to peer down Kaminari’s again, looking between them. Was he missing something?

He frowned and placed one foot in front of the other. Nothing. He moved toward Sero’s door until he was standing on the threshold, both hands gripping the frame just in case. 

“Kirishima, which door is correct?” he asked, and the redhead jumped.

“Well… it would have to be Sero’s, right? If Kaminari’s didn’t work both times.”

Bakugou glanced at him. “You’d better be right dipshit.”

He took another step and exhaled when the floor didn’t quake under his feet. 

“Oh!” Kaminari said suddenly. “ _That’s_ who he wanted to fuck!”

“Right-” Bakugou lunged for him.

“No-” Kirishima grabbed him, hauling him away. “Let’s go! Goodbye guys!”

“Goodbye, Katsuki!” Sero waved through the door. 

“I hope you find a quirk soon!” Kaminari called.

The door thudded shut.

Bakugou snarled, shoving Kirishima away. “Now what fuckwit? Are you just gonna fucking follow me?”

“I’m sorry about them,” Kirishima turned his shoulders inward. “I know you would never want to do anything like with someone as lame as me.”

“Who _are_ you?” Bakugou wondered, staring at the other boy. “The Kirishima I know is always happy.”

“That’s good,” Kirishima whispered. “I hope one day I can always be happy.”

Bakugou groaned, stalking off. It was silent behind him for a few moments. “Hurry up!”

“Right!” Kirishima rushed to his side.

They walked through the labyrinth, the silence growing more and more comfortable. They passed a white statue of a short girl with a knife clutched in her left hand and Bakugou shivered slightly as they walked past.

He glanced back a few minutes later and the knife was balanced on her right knuckles.

He swallowed and didn’t turn again.

Eventually, they reached a blank slate of wall, blocking off the path.

“A dead end,” he sneered, kicking the wall, and moving to leave. “What a fucking waste of time.”

“Well, that’s a rude insinuation!” a voice from behind him said.

“This was a dead-end a second ago!” Bakugou exclaimed, rushing forward and gaping at the two doors.

“No,” Iida the door knocker corrected pompously. “The dead-end is in fact behind you.”

Bakugou turned and just shook his head when he realised he was telling the truth, leaving them in a strange boxed off courtyard. “You know what? Sure. None of this makes sense anyway.”

“But if none of this makes sense then surely the fact that it doesn’t make sense makes sense?” a girl with long hair and large eyes chimed in. Asui, Bakugou recognised, also now a door knocker crafted from bronze and inlaid into a heavy door. There weren’t any handles.

“Now, good morning Katsuki!” Iida nearly yelled. “How are you?”

Bakugou ignored him. “How do I get in?”

“I’m fine, how are you?” Kirishima smiled at the knocker and Iida sniffed, starting a rant about manners and the modern youth.

Bakugou examined the doors, crouching down to squint for any visible hinges or locks but there was nothing. He glanced back up at the knockers and his eyes narrowed further. “Which door’s right?”

“Mine,” Iida declared. “But you must open it first!”

“He’s right,” Asui agreed, smiling at him. “It's easy though.”

“Easy?” Bakugou raised an eyebrow and looked over Iida’s knocker. “Do I just knock?”

Iida gasped. “No! You must prove yourself worthy!”

Bakugou’s temper frayed. “Worthy? I’m Bakugou Katsuki!”

“I’m well aware,” Iida raised his nose. “And as a result, you are currently _un_ worthy. Manners are required for every pro hero.”

Bakugou growled under his breath. That same stupid purple plant started to creep up through the slabs and he stamped savagely on it. “Can’t you just- you stupid- fucking-” he froze. “ _Please_.”

Iida nodded sagely. “There you go.”

“I’m getting the hang of this,” Bakugou grinned.

“This?” Not-Kirishima asked. 

“Just things I don’t give a shit about really,” Bakugou shrugged. He wouldn’t be surprised if the next section involved sitting at a dinner table and making sure his posture was perfect.

Iida’s door opened and Bakugou strolled into the next section, smiling to himself.

The paths were the same as they’d been before, casually meandering through the maze. For a moment, Bakugou thought he heard a child laugh behind him but when he turned, no one was there. He forced himself to exhale. 

There was a faint bubbling slowly getting louder and Kirishima pulled a face. “That really smells.”

Bakugou hummed an agreement, driving forwards. No fucking smell was gonna beat him. “Whatever.”

Bakugou’s steps stuttered. 

A large bog stretched out over the floor, interrupted only by a log that led to the other side and a few trees that rose out of the green sludge and curved over the makeshift bridge.

Kirishima’s hand on his arm made him flinch. Belatedly, he realised he was shaking. “Katsuki?” 

He nodded, staring at the slime wordlessly. He swore eyes were staring up at him from its depths.

“Katsuki,” Kirishima murmured, his voice low and soft and somehow everything. “You need to breathe.”

Bakugou sucked in an inhale. “I am fucking breathing,” he replied, voice ever so slightly higher than it should have been.

“I know,” Kirishima smiled. “You’re doing-”

“I don’t care,” Bakugou shook his hand off. He made himself focus, glaring at the half-sunken wood. It looked like it’d disappear if he so much as breathed on it and, eyeing Kirishima, he wasn’t sure it would be able to actually take their weight.

“Do you wanna do it together?” Kirishima asked quietly and Bakugou turned to him. The other boy smiled shyly. “I’m kinda scared.”

“Of course you are,” Bakugou scoffed and the redhead laughed. _Oh_ , Bakugou realised. _He’s lying_. “Let's go.”

They stepped forward-

Something jumped down from one of the trees, landing nimbly on the old wood and looking up to grin at them.

“Pinkshit,” Bakugou nodded and Kirishima gasped at the language. 

“No luck boys!” Mina stuck out her tongue and danced over to them. “You aren’t crossing _my_ log!”

“For fuck’s sake,” Bakugou grumbled and Kirishima patted his shoulder. “How the fuck are we supposed to get past then? _Please_?”

She fell silent, blinking rapidly. “You don’t. That’s the whole point.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Bakugou moved to push past her. The only thing worse than crossing a bog of sludge was getting stuck in a bog of sludge and Bakugou had a dipshit to rescue. “Move.”

She gaped at him, then Kirishima, before shaking her head animatedly. “But you can’t! I said no!”

“And I say yes,” Bakugou ignored her. She let out a growl, darting forwards and trying to push him back.

“No!” she repeated, pouting, and hitting his shoulders.

“Why not?” Bakugou challenged, grabbing her, and trying to lob her in the sludge.

She screeched, elbowing his ribs, and dropping back onto the log. “Because it's written!” she raised her nose. 

“Where is it written?” he picked up a rock and lobbed it at her, as she jumped behind a tree. Her head popped up a few seconds later, peeking out at him from a nearby knothole even as her legs were still impossibly flailing at the opposite end of the tree. 

“Rude!” she tapped his nose, leaving a burning residue and he growled, wiping it off. “And it's written here!” she produced the red book with an air of self-confidence Bakugou rolled his eyes at.

“Is that really what it says?” Bakugou challenged, crossing his arms.

“Yeah! You,” she looked to the side unconvincingly. “You don't cross. Ever.” 

“Just,” he lunged for it and she gasped, chucking it into the slime. It bubbled and sank into the sludge, the green suffocating it. Bakugou suppressed a shudder.

“Well now I’ve got no idea what’s supposed to happen,” Mina lamented. “Thanks, Katsuki.”

He glared at her. “Look, bitch-”

“Is this a bad time?” Todoroki asked and Bakugou groaned, shoving Kirishima away to storm up to him. 

“Oi asshole, tell her we need to pass this bridge!”

“Why would I do that?” he blinked, tilting his head to the side, and twirling a crystal ball through his fingers.

“Argh!” Bakugou yelled, fists clenching. Belatedly, he realised he hadn’t thought about his quirk in hours. “Just-”

“Oh, hello Kirishima,” Todoroki nodded and Kirishima waved happily at him. “Goodbye.”

“ _What_ -” Bakugou exclaimed but he’d already vanished. “I hate this so much.”

Mina blew out her cheeks, scurrying down the tree like a squirrel. _Is this really how I see her?_ Bakugou wondered. She caught his gaze and shot him some finger guns with an exaggerated wink. _Yeah, that seems more like it._

“You gonna let us pass now?” Bakugou sneered. 

“Well…” Mina bit her lip. “I shouldn’t.”

“But now your book is gone,” Bakugou pointed out. “So, nothing's telling you to stop us.”

Mina threw her hands up with a loud sigh. “I mean, I guess! …heh. Alright then, Katsuki!”

She turned and danced across the log, pink hair bouncing slightly as she skidded onto the archway marking the next section of the maze. 

“You go,” Bakugou nodded at Kirishima, wary of the thing’s weight limit. He was more flexible so if the log was closer to sinking, he’d be more able to avoid its weak points and likely cross it faster. 

“If you’re sure,” Kirishima told him nervously, carefully placing his foot onto the wood and pushing down on it experimentally. When it didn’t budge, he rested his weight on it. Bakugou swallowed as the wood dipped just a little into the bog and didn’t then resurface. 

Kirishima moved forward and Bakugou watched his feet, memorising where he’d stepped and trying not to look at the green sludge that was clinging to the wood. It reminded him of that purple plant, and he _wished_ he had the confidence to just kick the shit out of this too.

“Nice!” Mina high-fived him as he joined her and Bakugou breathed in.

They were both staring at him from the other side, waiting.

He lifted a foot and froze-

It was the same log, he realised. Rotting and sagging in the big water with the same splinters and knots that he’d run over as a kid before… he bit down a snarl. Before Deku had ruined that river for playing forever (Flashes of an old memory, tumbling into a creek and Deku laughing at him, mockingly offering a hand, flitted across his mind.). He was just a quirkless _idiot_ , no matter what All Might had done, always idolised, and fussed over; hell, even in this fucking dream his parents seemed to care about Deku more than him.

Bakugou had tried to pass through those woods on a hike the year before UA, promising himself he’d be able to walk past it with his head held high but when it had come down to it, he couldn’t quite stop himself from just looking at the old wood.

His walk had had to be cut short when he’d lost his temper and sent the log crashing down into the river, startling a flock of birds and sending a family rushing into the clearing to see if anyone had been injured. The memory made him _burn_ in shame, that some fucking nobody family was more heroic than he was. There had been a small boy with them and Bakugou bet that _he_ would never be stupid enough to get stuck in a quirk like this. 

God, he was such an idiot. He shuffled forwards, forcing down the warmth behind his eyes to-

The log snapped.

“Fuck!” Bakugou grabbed desperately onto a thin branch. “Shit- I-” The bog beneath him bubbled furiously as the log sank into the sludge, impossibly deep. 

“You alright?” Mina asked, smiling casually at him. Bakugou scowled at her, jerking awkwardly to keep his balance. She waited for a few seconds before shrugging, ignoring his anger. “See, he’s fine.”

“You-” Bakugou cut himself off, thrashing his legs out. “I-” he swallowed, sharply inhaling.

The sludge felt like it was rising towards him, nearly enveloping his feet, but he couldn’t properly lift himself without snapping the branch and drowning in the slime. His breaths were growing quicker and Bakugou could feel his vision start to splinter around the edges, zeroing in on the bog. It smelled foul, like old sewage and bodies, and Bakugou was close to throwing up and losing his balance.

“Katsuki?” Kirishima asked from the other side, eyes kind, _too_ kind.

Bakugou stared helplessly at him, wishing hopelessly that he somehow got the message. The redhead’s face didn’t shift, frozen on that good-hearted worry. Bakugou swore. “Right, dream fucking factory settings. Great.” 

He looked down, trembling enough that the branch he was holding onto was hitting the others near it and rustling the leaves, the noise pounding against his head. He glanced up and there was the chance that he could make the jump to grab onto a sturdier branch, but he could also miss, he could also slip, and the other side was too far for him to make with one leap.

“Katsuki?” Kirishima prompted like an NPC in one of his stupid video games.

“Yeah, yeah, there’s something I need to do,” Bakugou panted, close to hyperventilating as the branch wobbled back and forth. “Something, something, some-”

“Katsuki!” Mina greeted, somehow peering down at him from the branches. “How’s it hanging?”

“Fuck off!” he snapped. “I’m fucking-”

The branch cracked ominously.

Blood drained from Bakugou’s face and it felt like it was running down his back.

Slowly, he looked at Kirishima, who was still watching him, a worried smile over his face.

“I…”

A clock suddenly chimed out from somewhere, eight long chimes. Five hours to go. Bakugou’s eyes fluttered closed and he took a moment to gather himself before turning back to Kirishima.

His voice was just a whisper but somehow Kirishima heard him: “I need your help.”

The redhead nodded seriously, slipping off his jacket and carefully approaching the blonde, hovering by the edge of the sludge.

“I’m scared.”

Kirishima’s head snapped up and Bakugou met his gaze - panicked, wide eyes against shocked ones.

“I didn’t mean to say that,” he murmured and Kirishima’s entire body seemed to soften. 

“Here,” he reached out a hand, bracing himself on one of the tree trunks. “Jump.”

Bakugou’s eyes locked onto the hand and found himself nodding. Kirishima had to catch him, he wouldn’t have offered otherwise. “Fuck you dream logic,” Bakugou smirked, fear starting to settle. “I’ve got you cornered.”

The moment he let go of the branch felt like the longest of his life - _longer than feeling slime seep into his mouth, longer than the moments before his UA acceptance letter, longer than standing in a destroyed battlefield and seeing his best friend stretch out a strong arm towards him._

Mina jolted down to grab him like she couldn't help herself from trying to save someone, but Bakugou’s gaze was on Kirishima: his red eyes were determined and the second their fingers brushed he was yanking the blonde towards him until they fell backwards through the archway, Kirishima’s arms secured around him, breathing into his hair.

“I’ve got you,” he was whispering. “I’m here, Katsuki.”

Bakugou’s muscles finally started to unwind, relaxing onto the body under him. 

As soon as Bakugou was out of this he’d arrange a gym date. Well, not a _date_ date, just time for the two of them to hang out. Alone. Ugh. 

Bakugou rolled off him, looking down at his feet and exhaling when he realised that not even a drop of the sludge had gotten on his shoes.

“Wow!” Kirishima smiled at him toothily. “You did it! You’re so strong!”

Bakugou flushed until he was the same colour as Kirishima’s stupid fucking eyes. “ _We_ did it, dumbass.”

Kirishima’s breath caught. “That means a lot to me, Katsuki.”

Bakugou frowned at him. There was something in his words, something new, and Kirishima’s eyes were lit up with a feeling that wasn’t quite friendship but - 

Oh.

_Oh._

_OH._

Bakugou blinked at him but Kirishima didn’t seem to mind, still smiling at him, still lit up and _STILL FUCKING HOLDING HIS HAND._

Bakugou yanked it back, his blush darkening. Then again, of course this dream would make the hottest boy in the class have a crush on him. Every story had to have a love interest these days, so it was only reasonable.

There was a bubbling behind them and Bakugou whirled to see the green sludge rising up and up and-

“Get back!” he shoved Kirishima behind him. “Fuck off.”

The sludge jerked forward and Bakugou didn’t back down, raising his fists and eyeing the thing’s thinner sections. 

It lunged-

The archway slammed shut, droplets of slime inching down the wall. Bakugou growled, stamping onto the green mud. “I could’ve kicked his ass,” he muttered, rolling his shoulders back. 

“Yay!” Mina exclaimed, jumping into Bakugou’s arms. “We all did it!”

“What did _you_ do?” Bakugou protested, and she just laughed.

“We should probably carry on, right?” Kirishima pointed out and Bakugou followed his gaze to the castle, ever so slightly closer than it had been.

“Right.” He nodded, stepping up next to him. For some reason, that essay for Present Mic suddenly seemed less daunting.

They walked into a peach grove together and Bakugou glanced around, the cloying scent of fruit clinging to him.

“Here,” Kirishima offered, pulling off a peach from a branch. 

Bakugou took it without thinking, biting into the soft fruit.

He stumbled.

“This tastes wrong,” he murmured and the peach dropped to the ground, rolling over the dirt. Kirishima flinched.

“I just want to keep you safe, Katsuki. This is the only way.”

Bakugou’s legs weakened and he fell to the ground, hands grasping at the dirt as his breath caught.

The scent of peaches was dancing around him and dimly, he realised that crystal balls were circling him.

Bakugou blinked slowly, entranced by the slow moving of the crystals - the lights gleaming and shifting. “What did you do?”

He lifted a shaking hand to Kirishima’s blurry figure and let himself fall.

* * *

_“Good evening, Katsuki,” a man greeted as he floated down to the marble floor, large white sleeves swirling around him in a delicate white suit. The room was coated in mirrors and the guests were all laughing, swaying, moving around him until they blurred into a mess of crystal and colour._

_“Hello,” he greeted back, turning his head around the ballroom. Everyone was wearing porcelain masks. Everyone but him._

_A woman near him cooed, bending to peer at his face, her own mask twisted into a wide smile. Her dark hair looked slightly familiar and she was in a tight pale dress with thick perfume that made his eyes droop when she leant too close. “Isn’t he a lovely young man?” her mask beamed down at him and the next thing he knew, he was being pulled away to a table laden with glasses and shining liquids in a delicate tower._

_“Shit,” Bakugou whispered, tilting to the side before someone clasped his arm, rough mask leering down at him. They move away, gliding into a waltz and Bakugou is left to the side, rejected._

_A man stood over him, mask with no mouth at all and he examined Bakugou’s hair with a manicured finger. “Mildly acceptable,” he sighed. “But I expected so much more.”_

_Bakugou took an unsteady step backwards. “I don’t know what’s happening,” he found himself saying and the man blinked._

_“Don’t be ridiculous, Katsuki!” a boy jumped in, blonde hair and purple eyes shimmering. He seemed perfectly at peace here, the low chandeliers trailing strings of pearl that dragged over their skin. “You’re here, aren’t you?”_

_“I suppose,” Bakugou answered. His thoughts were slipping away from him, every time he noticed something it would be gone. “I need to leave… don’t I?”_

_Aoyama shrieked with laughter, pulling him into the swirl of dresses and ruffles that made him feel like he’d stepped into one of the period dramas a girl in his class favoured. ~~Which one?~~_

_Everything felt hazy, like he’d slipped into another state just below wakefulness, like if he could just stand a centimetre taller, he'd suddenly be back in the… back in the what?_

_There were crystal silver laurels in his hair and they were digging into his skull, knotting through the blonde strands._

_A tall girl with a ponytail was standing by a faraway mirror in a low-cut red dress and a sharp beaked mask. Bakugou grabbed someone’s silk sleeve to keep himself stable as his mind flared. “Let me go.”_

_“We aren’t holding you!” a man patted him carelessly, hand tightening in his hair and fingernails scraping over his skin._

_The group erupted into sudden raucous laughter, screeching and shrieking._

_Someone pushed a glass of white wine into his hand and Bakugou stared at it. When he turned, they were already gone, absorbed into the steady circling of masks around him._

_For a second, they parted, and he saw Todoroki between a tall imposing man in a dark blue suit and a delicate woman in a silver dress. His mask was a crescent moon, and it covered his burn and the left side of his face completely._

_“Hey-” Bakugou tried to say but the words choked him. A woman had taken hold of his arm and was manipulating him into a dance, nails digging into his shoulder until Bakugou felt the skin snap and blood trickle down his suit._

_The crowd enveloped him, sweeping him away from Todoroki and the brief promise of escape._

_“Katsuki,” his father appeared, and the blonde winced, skull rattling. The man’s mask is carved with a small smile, as if with a knife, and he placed a paternal hand on his shoulder. “Where are you going?”_

_“Away from this,” Bakugou promised, pressing a hand to his mouth. The wine glass was still hanging limply from his fingertips, now empty with a trail of shimmering liquid leading to him. The lights felt like they were getting impossibly brighter._

_“Why?” Masaru questioned, voice even._

_Bakugou started to shake his head before someone’s fan shifted and he caught a glimpse of a head of distinctive hair. “Todoroki…” He took a trembling step forward until someone grabbed his hands, tottering over him in stupidly high heels._

_Bakugou looked up and saw the girl with the ponytail giggling down at him. She reeked of wine and her beaked mask was leaning closer and closer to his eyes. An old man wound an arm around her shoulders and Bakugou watched them leave. Another man took her place and placed his hands on Bakugou’s waist, a woman at his back, holding him up, giggling in his face, porcelain against his skin._

_The crowd thinned and he snatched another look at Todoroki, trapped between a new man and woman as they twisted around him, whispering into his ears._

_He looked up and their eyes met._

_For a strange, disorienting moment, it looked like Todoroki was asking for help._

_Everyone let go of him and he felt untethered, close to drowning in the ocean of wide dresses and white._

_He floated through the hall, two men embracing against the wall, suits rumpled and masks scraping unpleasantly against each other in a parody of a kiss._

_He pushed through meaningless people until they all seemed meaningful - his babysitter from nursery, a kid who moved to Singapore when Bakugou was four, the strong boy in his class eating a delicate vanilla cake - and suddenly Todoroki was standing in front of him._

_The bodies around them were coiled together and he was reminded of a tightly knit tapestry - if he tried to separate them would they all simply unravel?_

_“Hello, Katsuki,” Todoroki said and Bakugou stared at him, stranded._

_“I don’t think I should be here,” he answered, and Todoroki laughed, low and quiet and close to tears._

_“No. You shouldn’t.”_

_“Neither of us should,” Bakugou whispered. His brow puckered, trying to think. “Shitty Hair.”_

_“He betrayed you,” Todooki nodded, looking down. “They always betray you.”_

_His eyes hardened in bitterness, a rotten apple in the orchard._

_“They always leave.”_

_Todoroki suddenly clutched at his neck, tugging his collar away, bent over in the ballroom as he gazed desperately at the faces of the adults around them._

_“He said he would stay and protect me, but he_ left, _Katsuki, he_ left _, and I was alone and no one would help and the one who could_ left _because he-”_

_“Why did he leave?” Bakugou asked, watching him like he was just a TV program, undeniably uninvolved._

_“I wasn’t even supposed to know who he was,” Todoroki whispered. “But he always ignored the rules. He brought me sweets on my birthday,” he smiled, a little broken. “No one else did.”_

_“You’re lonely,” he said suddenly and a woman near them gasped, pushing forwards._

_Bakugou watched passively as Todoroki was dragged into a dance, the woman draping herself over him and fingering the red side of his hair. Bakugou’s hand twitched but something was wrong, something was stopping him. But everything felt normal. He saw his father laughing with his associates and knew that this was where he should be._

_There was a clock ticking away above him, a slow pendulum dragging along below it, and it was three hours to thirteen o’clock but that didn’t mean anything to him._

_There was the press of fingers under his jaw and he looked up, a man with silver hair, red eyes, dust under his nails and-_

_“Fuck!” he scrambled back into the table, sending the tower of champagne glasses shattering to the floor._

_The liquid floated in midair for a moment before crashing down to the marble, splashing over his suit, and coating his hair in shining little droplets._

_The room was silent._

_Then, footsteps, heavy and clicking until-_

_“Katsuki!” his mother sneered, storming through the crowd to-_

_“No,” he pulled back, stumbling into a man who just laughed at him, leaning down with his stupid porcelain mask._

_The clock was chiming out, an endless ticking, ringing in his ears, and the mirrors were growing and shrinking into distortions, everyone looming over him, peering into his frightened eyes._

_“Katsuki!” someone yelled and Bakugou tried to run but someone was grabbing his arms, his legs, his neck-_

_“No!” he ran to the nearest mirror, heaving his shoulder and fists against it. The blood from the woman’s nails smeared over the glass and Bakugou barely had a moment to realise that there was no gap, this was a two-way mirror and people were watching him before-_

_It shattered with a deafening crash._

_The floor dropped and everyone fell upwards, shrieking, the room shrinking into nothing and he was, he was-_

_He was whirling through the air, slipping through the floor, and sucking in sharp breaths, face warm and growing warmer, frantically trying to find his footing, find a grip, find someone, anyone, no one-_

* * *

Bakugou slammed into the ground, heaving out bile onto his… rug?

Slowly, he sat up, hand on his neck, and took in the sight around him. He was back in his dorm, sprawled over the floor with his math textbook lying open next to him. 

“Was it just a dream?” he muttered to himself. On instinct, he counted out his five senses and breathed out. He lifted his hands to rub at his eyes. “What a-”

He froze.

“I’m still wearing the fucking shirt!” he exploded, hurling his textbook into the wall, and cursing when the plaster cracked. “Fuck!” he yanked his door open and recoiled.

“Oh, hello!” Uraraka tiptoed in. She was wearing her school backpack, trinkets and charms dangling from the straps and when she moved, they all rattled together. She smelled of peaches. “It's nice to see you, Katsuki.”

Bakugou glowered at her, still raggedly exhaling. “I’m _waking up_. Now _move_.”

She shook her head, mumbling to herself. “No, no, you can’t go, you need to stay here, see,” she bustled past him, the charms scraping at his skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “You’re right where you need to be, all your things are here aren’t they?”

He watched her shift, blinking as her actions seemed to blend into each other. His eyelids were starting to droop, and he ground his fists into his eyes. “No.”

She bent down and picked up an old red hoodie. Her lip curled and she dropped it. It wasn't his, Bakugou tried to think. Someone else’s… red hair? 

“Why don’t we just take a moment to relax _here_?” she smiled sweetly at him. The peach scent was getting stronger.

“No,” he shook his head slowly. “I need to go. I need to-”

“The only thing you need to do,” she carefully took his wrists and led him to his bed, pushing him onto the mattress. “Is _relax_. Look!” 

She picked up his History workbook, breezing past the strange empty spaces on his desk and shelves. “Look at all your hard work!” she flipped it open to a perfect set of questions, the page full of red ticks. “Don’t you think it's time to just rest?”

“No,” he repeated but he couldn’t quite remember why anymore. His gaze was on that empty space, something missing. “There’s-”

“Nothing you need to worry about!” she sang, darting to his wardrobe and pulling out a crumpled purple and red suit. Her expression darkened and she placed it firmly back into the shadows. 

Bakugou craned his neck to see the clothes but his thoughts were getting foggier. The taste of peaches was still itching at the back of his throat and the sweetness made him feel faint. He felt like he was sinking into his mattress.

“Oh, look here!” she twirled a small keychain over her finger and Bakugou frowned at the blonde figure, arms crossed with a wide grin. Something about it made a bell in the back of Bakugou’s mind ring out but Uraraka had already pushed it back into a drawer.

“I need to go,” he said, mouth moving without his consent. She looked at him and giggled. 

“Why?” 

He opened his mouth, but he couldn't answer. There was something he had to do. Someone he had to find… wasn’t there?

He glanced at the small mirror on the wall. It was just him. It was always just him. And _he_ was fine, so shouldn’t everything else be too?

“Remember this?” she beamed, pulling out an old trophy he’d won in nursery. He couldn't even remember what it was for. There was a shiny ‘1’ on the front and the sight made his lips twitch. “And this!” she grabbed for another from a drawer Bakugou had thought contained his workout gear. “And this! Oh, this one! I remember this!” she retrieved one after another, the awards piling up on his floor until he couldn’t see her feet.

She exhaled, low and longing.

“And _this_ ,” she lifted a thick golden medal from the drawer reverently, cradling it in her small hands. “You must remember this one.”

She turned to him and he stared at the award, a slightly familiar logo burned into the gold.

“I won?” he asked softly, and her smile grew. She pressed it into his hands. They were trembling.

“You won,” she promised him. “You were the best.”

“This is mine?” he asked again, still staring down at the gold. Something about her words scratched at him, like she wasn't quite telling the truth.

She turned back to the drawer and handed him another, identical. “They’re all yours.”

She gave him one more and he gazed down at the three gold medals.

“You beat them all, every year.”

He looked up and she was still smiling at him, brown eyes sparkling in respect and admiration. “I beat them all.”

He started to shake his head.

“No.”

Her smile tightened. He was still sitting on his bed and when he glanced down, he saw a small orca plushie, one he hadn’t seen in years. Glancing at the walls around him again, he swallowed.

There were the certificates from his primary school, posters he’d put up in middle school and the balcony he sat out on in high school, watching the stars glow.

“Who?” Bakugou whispered, staring down at his unblemished hands. The medals started to feel heavier. “There’s something missing.”

“Hmm?” Uraraka asked. Her smile was gone. “Missing? What could be missing?”

His eyes tracked over the framed certificates and the empty space on his desk. There had been… pictures there. But what of? His mind conjured up the image of a girl with pink hair on a sofa with him; someone was laughing behind the camera and someone’s stupid red shoe caught in the background.

He pushed himself up, going back to that drawer and pulling out the same small keychain. The figure beamed up at him. He closed his eyes, straining to piece it all together. The missing photos, the keychain-

Bakugou’s eyes snapped open.

“Deku!” he shoved past the brunette to the door, snarling when it wouldn’t open. “Let me out!” he pounded at it, tugging on the handle. “Let me help him!”

“What makes you think you could?” she challenged and Bakugou froze. When he turned, she was sneering at him. “Why do _you_ deserve to?”

“Because…” Bakugou clutched at the handle, shoving his weight against it and stumbling back when it didn’t move. “Because I’m a hero,” he fell back onto an expensive couch his father had gotten him when… when what? Bakugou _hadn’t_ gotten that couch, he couldn't control his anger for long enough and his mother had spent the money on a spa treatment instead. Right? 

“You? A hero?” she laughed. “Katsuki, you know you’re a villain. It would be better for everyone if you just stayed here!” she gestured around them at the strange amalgamation of his childhood and dorm room. “What have you ever done that’s heroic?”

“I…” Bakugou blinked down at the floor and the red hoodie. “I kept his secret. I showed him,” he closed his eyes. “I showed him my weaknesses.”

“Doesn’t make you a hero,” she drawled and for a moment, she sounded just like his mother. “That just makes you pathetic. Cowardly. _Villainous_.” 

Bakugou frowned. “Why’re villains always the cowards?” he mumbled, the flame villain’s words coming back to him. _Conditioned_. “They’re the ones with half the balls.”

“Focus!” she sang. “Why should you save him?”

“Because I’m strong,” he nodded to himself. “I turned down the league, I fought with Kirishima at USJ,” his head jerked up. “I let you fight, _really fight,_ at the Sports Festival!”

Her eyes fogged over for a second like he’d done something wrong and messed with her weird dream-coding. “Did you?”

“Yes,” he stated, clenching his fists. “I did and I’d do it again. Everyone deserves a fair fight,” he stressed, and the golden Sports Festival medals collided into each other. 

He looked down at them, surprised he was still gripping the red ribbons.

“That’s why these aren’t mine. Not really.”

Slowly, he loosened his grip and they clattered to the ground.

“But what about now?” she asked, voice suddenly more passionate. “You’re quirkless and nothing but a burden to everyone around you! The only thing you have is your quirk and, now, you're _nothing_.”

“Bullshit,” Bakugou shook his head, eyes wide. “I’m who I want to be and no dream quirk is ever gonna change that.”

“So, _why_ will you help him?” she pushed.

“Because it's my fault,” he whispered. “And I need to fix it.”

He exhaled, bracing himself on the wall and lifted his chin.

“I’m going to save him. That’s why I deserve to be a hero.”

The door clicked open.

He ran to it, grinning when it swung out onto a strange sepia junkyard. He turned back to nod at Uraraka but the room was gone, replaced with piles of metal and garbage.

“Cheers,” he said to the air instead, huffing out a snort when the breeze ruffled through his hair. “Right then,” he tugged his foot out of an old bike.

The castle was just over the next section, he could feel it.

“Guess I’ll just carry on.”

The labyrinth was back to long stretches of stone, repetitive and calming in its monotony compared to the various scenes he’d just suffered through. Honestly, if this dream had done anything it had convinced him that he never wanted to go to one of his parents’ parties.

Bakugou eyed the walls and shrugged. He hooked one hand into a small nook and swung himself up, landing perfectly on top of the wall. When nothing happened, he whooped and started to run over the stone, jumping over gaps to the castle, closer and closer.

The sun was setting and when he paused, one hand over his eyes, the labyrinth was beautiful. He looked up and Todoroki was watching him from a window in one of the castle towers. Bakugou gave him a mock bow and Todoroki smiled. A large figure appeared behind him and Todoroki flinched, someone pulling him away. Bakugou’s own smile slipped, staring at the empty window.

Then, he caught sight of someone huddled on a set of unfinished set of stairs and he smirked, leaping over to them. 

“Hey, crowface!” Bakugou said. “Look, I’ve got this wish I need to reverse, and I need to get to the castle at the centre of the labyrinth but is there anything I can do for you?”

Tokoyami blinked at him before humming sagely. “By asking that you have already learnt all that I could teach you.”

“Great!” Bakugou grinned down at him. “That was easy.”

“Back off!” someone yelled and Bakugou’s head snapped out to a courtyard a few metres away. “I’ll use my quirk on you!”

“Alright villain!” another crowed, and a group laughed. 

Tokoyami turned towards the noise too, eyeing Bakugou. “I believe that that is where you are needed.”

Bakugou nodded, jumping off his wall and creeping closer to peer into the cloister. 

Three people were standing over a purple-haired boy crouched on the ground and a girl was holding onto a small child in the corner as she cried and struggled.

“Let him go!” she begged, kicking out, but they all ignored him.

“Go on!” a blonde boy taunted, bending down. “Use your quirk. Do it.”

The one on the ground set his jaw and looked away.

The blonde threw his head back in laughter and Bakugou blinked.

 _Oh_ , he realised quietly. _It's me._

The purple-haired boy’s eyes locked onto Bakugou and recognition jolted through him. It was the one from the Sports Festival with the mind control quirk. Bakugou’s gaze trailed to the four bullies and sighed.

“Move, brats,” he cracked his knuckles, stalking into the courtyard. “Before I kick the shit out of you. You don’t want him to hurt you, do you?” he raised an eyebrow and the boy on the ground blinked, clearly suspicious.

“Who are you?” the blonde frowned, hands in the pockets of his middle school uniform. 

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Go and throw up in a drain, you’re boring me.”

The blonde stumbled back, eyes wide, but Bakugou just raised his eyebrow higher. He understood that the general idea of trauma was that you shouldn’t exploit it but given that he was Bakugou fucking Katsuki, he didn’t get traumatised and therefore his middle school self would be _fine_ being reminded of the Sludge Villain incident. Probably. 

The boy turned and let, his lackeys looking between him curiously before scurrying after their ringleader. Bakugou watched him for a few moments before the small girl rushed forward to the boy on the floor.

“You alright?” Bakugou asked and the boy looked up at him. “Bakugou Katsuki.”

“I know. Shinsou Hitoshi,” he held out a hand and the two of them shook on it. 

Bakugou stared at the small girl, racking his brain for clues. “And I don’t recognise you.”

“I’m Eri,” she sniffed, rubbing hands into her eyes. “And we’re lost.”

“Well, that was stupid of you,” Bakugou frowned. “Oh!” he exclaimed, a small picture on Aizawa’s desk coming back to him. “You’re Aizawa’s brat!”

Eri gasped. “Really?”

The blonde hesitated. “Are you not?”

“I-” she hiccupped. “I don’t know,” she started to cry again and Shinsou swept her into a hug, resting her on his hip.

“Look, we don’t know our way home,” Shinsou confessed. “The labyrinth shifted when we were out, and now our usual path is gone.”

“That’s relatively straightforward,” Bakugou declared, leading the way out of the courtyard. “Come on then.”

Eri wiped her nose on the hem of her dress and Bakugou sighed.

“What are you, Deku 2.0?”

“I’d quite like to be like Deku!” she perked up and Bakugou glanced at Shinsou who seemed used to these outbursts and was still glaring at him distrustfully.

“What?”

“You’re quirkless,” Shinsou drawled like it was common knowledge. It probably was.

“Obviously,” he snarled, patience eroding faster than a good mood when Deku got himself into another fucking life-threatening situation. _Was this how Deku felt?_ He couldn't help but wonder. _Everyone always stating the obvious like it was supposed to mean something._

“So, you’re helpless,” Shinsou said, frowning. “But you helped.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m secretly a good person or whatever,” Bakugou muttered. “Here,” he snagged a small red apple from a tree and handed it to Eri.

“Thank you!” she mumbled, smiling down at the fruit.

He could hear Deku’s sobs floating down from the castle and he sighed. “I know, I’m fucking coming.”

“But you’re _quirkless-_ ”

“I don’t care!” Bakugou threw his hands up. “Never tell me what I can and can’t do! It doesn’t matter!”

He drew to a stop. 

“It doesn’t matter.”

He shook his head and ploughed on. He would address _that_ mess of decisions later, right now he was on a pretty fucking tight schedule.

“There!” Eri exclaimed, jumping out of Shinsou’s arms, and running to a small house placed on the borders of the city. There was a trail of stones leading up to the door and a railing encircling the small garden. It looked like one of the cottages where princesses would live in stupid animated movies.

The door creaked open and his homeroom teacher crossed his arms.

Aizawa examined a large pocket watch. “You are running four hours behind schedule.”

“Whatever,” Bakugou shrugged. “Here you go. Two kids.”

Shinsou shot him an unimpressed look and Bakugou flipped him off with a grin. The two ducked into the house, Eri rushing into the structure with an excited exclamation of ‘Hizashi!’ that Bakugou was _not_ interested in dwelling on. His teachers' love lives were none of his concern.

“What have you learnt?” Aizawa asked like it was an evaluation on one of those tests that Bakugou always fucking aced because he was the goddamn best. Bar Ponytail. And Legs. Is that what he’s learnt??

“Fucking I don’t know,” Bakugou sighed, looping his arms over the railing. He kicked out at a loose rock and sent it bouncing along the ground, deja vu almost overtaking him. Aizawa joined him and the sun setting seemed a lot less ominous. “Something heroic I guess.”

“Don’t be a brat,” Aizawa chided, taking a small sip of coffee from a pink cat mug. It didn’t feel out of place at all despite the weird sleeping shirts and overgrown stone walls.

“Maybe… heroic shit isn't always explosions and stuff,” he muttered, staring down at his hands. “Sometimes it's just being a good person.”

Aizawa hummed into his drink. “I suppose that would be a good lesson.”

“Well, was that it?” Bakugou frowned.

“I didn’t ask what the lesson was, I asked what _you_ had learnt,” Aizawa told him and Bakugou let his head fall onto his elbows.

“I shouldn’t ignore people in the same situations as me.”

Aizawa tilted his head in recognition. “You have someone to save.”

“I do,” Bakugou nodded. He looked up and the castle was in front of him, imposing doors just metres away.

“Go on then,” Aizawa prompted.

“But what if I fail?” the blonde whispered. “What if I’m not who I’m meant to be?”

“ _Meant_ to be?” Aizawa raised an eyebrow.

“Whatever,” Bakugou said. He honestly didn’t know what would happen, what was running through his brain.

Aizawa just inclined his head and watched him leave, oddly knowing. “Good luck.”

Bakugou nodded, staring up at the castle doors. “Thanks.” 

He sucked in a breath and pushed them open.

“Wait!” Bakugou turned. “What happened to Kirishima?”

The house was gone. 

He was alone in a stretch of air, suddenly stranded in the middle of Ground Beta, buildings growing impossibly down from the sky and rising from the fractured ground. There was a staircase leading sideways and some corridors were floating in mid-air, slowly rotating.

He started to run, jogging past the abandoned hunks of stone and pillars. 

There was a faint sob and Bakugou set his jaw.

“Deku?” he yelled. “Where are you?” 

The sobs got louder.

When he rounded a corner, he faltered. There was _nothing_ , just a collapse into the abyss.

“You’re lost,” Todoroki said behind him. “Turn back. Go home.”

“I can’t,” Bakugou shook his head, gazing into the darkness. “Not yet.”

He shoved past the other boy, racing up a staircase and coming to a similar dead-end. 

“You won’t find him,” Todoroki followed, and he seemed shorter than he had at the start.

“Says who?” Bakugou raised his chin. “I have to try.”

Todoroki didn’t answer, turning back to the devastation of the crumbling walls and floors. It looked like Kamino, but there was no one coming to help him this time.

Crystal balls started to twinkle through the air, suspended around him.

Bakugou spun in a slow circle - there was Deku as a kid with a frozen smile and legs too short for the chair he was perched on, staring down at foot - when he turned, he saw him lying on the ground, his arm a deep purple, and sweat dripping down his forehead - Deku was in a stupid green bunny suit, pathetically determined and standing next to All Might.

They cleared and Bakugou froze.

Below him, huddled into himself, was Deku in their middle school uniform, burnt notebooks scattered around him. His trousers were soaked and some of the books were dripping steadily onto the crumbling stone.

Katsuki could hear his quiet sobs. 

“Deku?”

The other boy didn’t react.

The floor he was standing on shattered and Bakugou felt shards of rubble and fractures of staircase fall with him into darkness. He landed hard, jumping back to his feet, and peering up at where he’d left Deku. 

Todoroki slowly approached him, fathers suddenly white and shimmering. 

“Where is he?” he ground out.

“Katsuki,” Todoroki warned. There was a clock behind him, whizzing and spinning past the golden numbers, unintelligible. “Turn back and I will grant you your quirk.”

“You can’t _grant_ me anything,” Bakugou spat, stepping forwards. “You’re nothing.”

“But I am here,” Todoroki mused, ice and fire dancing over his hands. “I am how you see me, and you do not see me as nothing.”

The blonde frowned, carefully watching him. “Well, I sure as fuck don’t see you as everything. So, what are you?”

Todoroki walked up the wall. He rounded the corner and stood in front of Bakugou, upside down with his hair somehow still perfect. He didn’t answer and Bakugou forced down his shudder. 

Suddenly, Todoroki’s face contorted in anger. “You’re so ungrateful!”

“What do I have to be grateful for?” Bakugou exclaimed.

“You have no idea what I’ve done!” Todoroki yelled. “What I’ve given you! I let you win!”

“That’s not _victory_!” Bakugou screamed back, the wind howling around him and whipping his shirt over his arms. He was just so fucking tired. “That’s just failure!”

“And have you failed this?” Todoroki spread his arms.

“No,” Bakugou shook his head. Warmth was growing behind his eyes and he didn’t even care. “I can’t. I can’t fail him. I can’t because…”

 _Deku in Kamino, Deku with the Sludge Villain, Deku being a_ hero.

“He’s never failed me.” 

Todoroki just watched him. He took another step. 

“Stop,” Bakugou begged weakly, clenching his eyes shut. “Don’t come any closer.”

Todoroki stopped. 

“How do I save him?” he whispered. “How do I prove myself? This can’t be it.”

“Why not?” Todoroki asked, back to standing in front of him.

“Because that’s the way the story goes,” Bakugou told him. “I beat you, save Deku, and _go home_.” 

He staggered to the edge of the floor, staring down at the chunks of rock around him.

“Maybe it's not me you need to beat,” Todoroki murmured and Bakugou turned.

His mother was perfectly silhouetted in an empty window frame, standing on a podium metres away. He swallowed.

He felt Todoroki walk up beside him. “Do you want help?”

Bakugou glanced at him. The feathers on his shoulders had shrunk to nothing and he suddenly looked a lot smaller.

“I think, if it were me, I would want help.”

“I have to do this myself,” Bakugou said. “She won’t take me seriously otherwise. But… Thank you halfie. Todoroki.”

The taller boy hummed and they both watched Mitsuki examine a row of mannequins and pin down fabrics five floors above them. “I don’t think I like that name.”

“Shouto then,” Bakugou quietly amended. “Thank you.”

Todoroki nodded at him. “I will be here if… if you need me.”

Bakugou smiled slightly. “Yeah, I know.” He took a step forward and stopped. “Deku’ll be there?”

“That’s the way the story goes.”

“I think we’ve gone a bit off the story,” Bakugou said. “But maybe that’s a good thing.”

The crystal balls returned and when he looked into one, there was a boy with silver hair, red-rimmed eyes and hands covered in dust, shaking in a tight ball.

“Maybe we shouldn’t try and be who we’re made to be.”

“That’s very wise,” Todoroki murmured.

Bakugou snorted. “I know.”

He took a step up a crumbling staircase and it felt like voices were surrounding him, whispering for him to carry on, to continue. Another step. Another. 

He rounded an impossible corner and stilled.

He was lounging on the steps, but it wasn’t _him_ , it was him in a black middle school uniform with his arms crossed and lips curled into a harsh sneer.

“You’re wrong,” he said and the boy on the stairs scoffed.

Had he always looked that young? His cheeks were rounded, and his blazer was practically slipping off his shoulders. 

“Whatever,” the boy sniffed like he could read his thoughts.

“I can’t change you,” Bakugou stated and the boy grunted an agreement. “You’ll always be here. In my past.”

“I’m not the fucking important one now though, am I?” he challenged and Bakugou met his glare with a considering expression.

“No. I suppose you’re not.”

The boy looked away with another scoff, resting his head in his hand and kicking at some loose pieces of rubbles. “Heard you kicked that slime prick’s ass.”

Bakugou blinked before his eyes softened. “Hell fucking yeah I did.”

The boy turned to him with a fierce grin and it broke across his face like a sunrise. “We’re gonna be the best fucking hero ever.”

“We will,” Bakugou promised and he meant it even more than he’d originally thought. “But I’m gonna need you to do me a favour.”

He groaned, slumping back into the rocks dramatically. “Fucking _what_?”

“Take care of Deku.”

His face twisted back into a scowl and Bakugou swallowed. 

“You know it's the right thing to do. And you hate it but it's true. You can’t lie to me,” Bakugou nudged his foot with his own. “I’m literally you.”

The boy huffed. “Fucking fine dipshit. This world’ll probably implode after you get out of it anyway.”

“True,” Bakugoua acknowledged. “But it's the principle of it.”

He walked past him without looking back, heading up the staircase with his gaze fixed on his mother. He walked up rubble and fragmented statues and broken podiums and endless, endless stairs.

Finally, someone coughed, and he turned.

“All Might,” he breathed, taking a slow step forward onto a new platform. “You…”

“You have been through a great deal, young Bakugou, in such a short span of time,” All Might murmured, emaciated, and staring up at the sky. It was blank and free of stars. “And it is not over yet. Perhaps it never will be.”

Bakugou swallowed, joining him. “Why did you choose Deku?” he whispered, voice cracking. “Why? I’ve been your fan for years, I’m stronger, I’m trained. I’d do _anything_.”

“Katsuki,” All Might said, then sighed. “If I gave you my quirk, along with your own, would you ever stop? Would you forgive yourself of failures at all? You would force yourself to become better, no matter the cost, and I could never force someone into that.”

“But doesn’t Deku do the same?” Bakugou frowned.

“No,” All Might smiled. “He always tries, and he mostly succeeds, but he accepts his defeats. And - where are you going?”

“To find Deku!” he yelled behind him as he sprinted up a set of stairs, grinning. “I’m gonna go be a hero. And I’ll do it my way!”

“Young Bakugou!” All Might called out but Bakugou didn’t look back. So what if he didn’t have One For All? He still kicked Deku’s ass on the regular and when he couldn't… well, he could just accept defeat, and he’d accept it _better_ than Deku did!

He saw a door at the top of a new staircase, and he sprinted up it, slamming it open.

“Ah, Katsuki,” his mother declared, pinning a dress onto a new mannequin. “You took your time. Come in, come in, close the door.”

He obeyed, frozen in space. She was wearing a sharp suit and Bakugou swallowed, back to feeling ridiculous in his silken shirt. There were sheets strewn over her measuring table and when Bakugou read one, he saw his middle school homeroom teacher complaining about his alienation of Deku.

“Well, don’t just stand there, help!”

He walked forward, holding up a strip of velvet as she pinned it, making a note on a loose piece of paper about colour. “I need to think a few things over.”

“Things like what?” she arched an eyebrow at him.

“Things like this,” Bakugou shrugged. “I’m starting to think our family might not be normal.”

“Who is these days?” she smirked at him and his lip twitched. “And if we’re not, what are you going to about it?”

“I don’t want to fight you,” he said honestly.

“Then I suppose you’d better wake up.”

“How?”

She looked at him over her shoulder, a loose smile curling up her cheeks. “How do you think?”

Bakugou turned back to the table, endless letters and papers about him and Deku - he saw a letter from Inko wondering why Bakugou hadn’t come round in a while, if he wanted her to arrange a sleepover, a notification from Aizawa about their fight at Ground Beta, a half-destroyed birthday card that had been for Deku before Bakugou had seen it and snapped.

“Deku.”

She hummed and turned back to him, running a hand through his hair. “I’m never going to understand you, am I?”

“It's probably for the best,” he huffed out a weak laugh and she smiled, pressing their foreheads together.

“Knock ‘em dead kid. Do it for me.”

He pulled a face, but she was already pushing him back out the door. 

“Now, invite him to dinner when you get out! I’ll know if you don’t!”

He reached a hand up to his forehead, feeling the spot tingle where chemicals had mixed and combined. He started to smile. “Thanks, mum.”

He ran back over ledges, jumping over floating chunks of rocks and ducked under pillars until he ended up on a lone platform, staring down at-

“Deku,” he exhaled. “Hey!” 

The other boy looked up, gasping out through his tears. “Kacchan?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bakugou panted. “Do you know how to get out of this?”

Deku winced and a crash echoed through the world, materials starting to fall to the ground, sending out shockwaves.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and a pillar whistled down past him, Bakugou’s hand rushing to his mouth. The blond’s face was warm, and he flinched at the next crash.

“Fine,” Bakugou said to himself, leaping down onto a rotating staircase to reach his friend. The stones jolted under him and he grabbed a handful of rubble, cursing when it broke off in his hand. 

For a moment, he sat there, panting, and staring at Deku.

“Do I need to die?” he finally said. “Do I need to sacrifice myself for you?”

Deku blinked helplessly at him. “I don’t _know_ , Kacchan. What do _you_ want?”

“I want for you to be ok, dipshit,” Bakugou whispered, taking an unsteady step onto a floating pillar. “Is that so fucking hard to believe?”

“A little,” Deku admitted. There was another crash and they both jerked, Deku burying his face in his knees. “Part of you still hates me.”

“Maybe that’s the part I need to kill.”

Another crash. 

“There’s something I’m missing,” Bakugou begged, running hands through his hair. Tears were rising behind his eyes. “There’s something else and-” he swallowed. “Everyone else has their quirks.”

His gaze slid over to Deku, cowering by the edge.

“Deku!” he nearly threw himself over the side, yelling down. “Use your quirk! It’ll break the dream!”

Deku shook his head, trembling. “But I don’t have a quirk!”

“Yes, you _do_!” Bakugou sobbed. “And it's fucking strong, ok? And you deserve it.”

Deku looked up, desperate. Bakugou nodded at him.

“You deserve to be his successor. I know you do.”

Deku’s eyes widened and lightning started to dance over his skin.

“Come on,” Bakugou whispered. “You’ve got this.”

A tear traced down his cheek and dropped down his jaw. 

The world went green before it could land on the stone.

He blinked his eyes open and the sun was rising again, dusting the strange world a light pink.

He was on a dusty path and he started to walk until he came to a crossroads. 

Kirishima stepped up next to him, a red hoodie tied around his waist. His skin was smooth, and he was smiling, small and content.

“Why did you give me the peach?” Bakugou asked and Kirishima shrunk into himself.

“I think that I was scared.”

“Of what?” Bakugou said, tired. “Me?”

“Never,” Kirishima answered, turning to him. “But… I was afraid of you leaving. You failing.”

Bakugou tangled their fingers together. “Please, trust me.”

“I will,” Kirishima promised, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I wish I could come with you.”

“You will,” Bakugou shrugged, staring at the steadily lightening sky and the crossroads. “Where do they lead?”

“I expect they both lead to you waking up,” Kirishima laughed softly.

“More lies?” Bakugou cracked a smile. “One of those fake entrances?”

Kirishima’s smile widened. “I hope you become someone you’re proud of, Katsuki.”

There was a boisterous laugh, and a short blonde child ran across the path, a trail of kids behind him, all laughing and cheering. A small boy was trailing after them and, as Bakugou watched, the blonde at the front slowed down just enough for him to catch up. Bakugou’s lips curled upwards. “I will.”

The blonde kid glanced back at him before beaming, red eyes crinkling into crescents. He flashed his middle finger and darted back off into the maze. For a second, Bakugou wanted to run after him but he knew the kid would be safe. People would look out for him.

“I’ll miss you,” this Kirishima smiled out at the sunrise.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bakugou sighed. “I’ll see you in a second.”

The redhead laughed. “I know.”

The sun peeked over the trees on the horizon and light was starting to flood his vision.

“Kiri-”

“I’m here,” the redhead murmured, thumb running over the back of Bakugou’s hand.

“Don’t forget about us!” Sero chimed in, Mina hanging off his shoulders and Kaminari giggling at them.

“Thank you, Katsuki,” Eri whispered, hesitantly taking hold of his other hand. “I think you’ll be a really cool hero one day!”

Shinsou appeared on the fringes, nodding at him. “You’ve got this.”

Jirou joined him, arm linked with Momo's. She nodded at him and Shouji and Ojiro were watching the sunrise with matching smiles.

Uraraka skipped forwards, flicking his forehead. “Remember this!”

Iida nodded, Aoyama muttering to himself in French. He heard Hagakure’s giggle and Asui’s ribbit. He caught a glimpse of Tokoyami and Satou chatting to each other and Kouda beaming down at his feet.

He glanced back and his parents were smiling at him from a castle window. Mitsuki made a shooing motion and Bakugou rolled his eyes.

“Kacchan!” Deku yelled and he saw the other boy waving at him enthusiastically. He was _him_ again, in his UA uniform and his hands scarred. “I’ll see you soon!”

Todoroki hummed, walking over to stand next to him. “Goodbye, Katsuki.”

“Goodbye,” Bakugou said.

They all looked so normal. Kirishima squeezed his hand and a white light erupted.

* * *

“Kacchan!” he heard a familiar voice exclaim and someone grabbed his hand.

“Bro, are you ok?”

“Deku,” Bakugou winced, cracking an eye open and scanning him. “Good. You’re you. No more fucking…” he gestured to him vaguely. “Twig arms.”

His head dropped back to the pillow and Kirishima called for Recovery Girl.

Todoroki popped up behind Deku to peer at him. “Do you think he has brain damage?”

“Fuck off, Shouto,” Bakugou sat up, oblivious to the wide-eyed looks he was getting. Todoroki blinked before smiling slightly. “What actually happened anyway?”

“Someone lost control of their bike and accidentally hit us,” Kirishima laughed awkwardly. “So we got put in weird 80s movies!”

“It was quite a strange quirk,” Recovery Girl nodded, bustling over to him. “Are you experiencing any lingering effects? Kirishima had a headache-”

“When did you get out?” Bakugou frowned at the redhead, who just smiled at him.

“Like five hours ago!”

They both looked at each other and narrowed their eyes. “So what did you get?”

“You first.”

“I asked first.”

Kirishima looked to the side clearly thinking. “Uh… Die Hard?”

Bakugou snorted and Kirishima beamed at him.

* * *

(“Hey.”

“Yeah, dude?” Kirishima paused outside his dorm. 

“What was I like in your dream?”

He immediately went red.

Bakugou grinned. “Good.” 

He reached across, knotted a hand in his tie, and pulled him in.

Kirishima’s eyes darted down and he swallowed. “Bakugou?”

“Kirishima.”

Their eyes met, red on red.

And the kiss was perfect.)

(He also got full marks on Present Mic’s essay.)

(Obviously.)

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comment xx
> 
> this week's 20 k fic was sponsored by the 'inn' segment of [s2e1 of the goes wrong show](https://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/m000qq33/the-goes-wrong-show-series-2-1-the-nativity) [18:18-21:10]
> 
> i like to think that Kirishima ended up in the princess bride but that's just me


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